The Italian novelists

Cbe
Italian novelists

Volume OIK

THE

ITALIAN

NOVELISTS

NOW FIRST TRANSLATED INTO
ENGLISH BY

W. G. WATERS

CHOICELY ILLUSTRATED BY

E. R. HUGHES, A.R.W.S., LONDON

IN SEVEN VOLUMES
VOLUME I.

%

LONDON: PRIVATELY PRINTED
FOR MEMBERS OF THE SOCIETY
OF BIBLIOPHILES: MDCCCCI

THE WATER COI/5R EDITION
The Text Printed on Venetian Paper

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IS LIMITED TO

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This is Copy No -4....O

Annex

5015538

V.I

The Princess Lucretia And Her
Joyous Company Assembled
For The Entertainments*

firoem

THE

Facetious Nights

OF

STRAPAROLA

NOW FIRST TRANSLATED INTO
ENGLISH BY

W. G. WATERS

CHOICELY ILLUSTRATED BY

JULES GARNIER
AND E. R. HUGHES, A.R.W.S.

IN FOUR VOLUMES
VOLOMB I.

LONDON: PRIVATELY PRINTED
FOR MEMBERS OF THE SOCIETY
OF BIBLIOPHILES: MDCCCCI v

THE FACETIOUS NIGHTS
OF GIOVANNI FRANCESCO
STRAP AROLA * * * * * fi *

CONSISTS OF AN EXQUISITE AND DE-
LIGHTFUL COLLECTION OF HUMOROUS
WITTY AND MIRTHFUL CONVERSATIONS
FABLES AND ENIGMAS INCLUDING SING-
ING MUSIC AND DANCING

DURING THE THIRTEEN NIGHTS
OF THE CARNIVAL AT VENICE

AS RELATED BY TEN CHARMING AND ACCOM-
PLISHED DAMSELS AND SEVERAL NOBLES
MEN OF LEARNING ILLUSTRIOUS AND HON-
ORABLE GENTLEMEN OF NOTE AT THE
ENTERTAINMENTS OF MERRIMENT AND
PLEASURE •••

GIVEN BYTHE PRINCESS LUCRETI A
AT HER BEAUTIFUL PALACE AT
MURANO

BeMcation.

@mtmg, 2T0 all gracious anb lonesome lalJt'es.

EAR ladies, there are many
envious and spiteful men who
are always and everywhere at-
tempting to fix their fearsome
fangs in my flesh and to scatter my dis-
membered body on every side, contend-
ing that the diverting stories which I
have written and collected in this volume
are none of mine, but goods which I
have feloniously taken from this man
and that. Of a truth I confess they are
not mine, and if I said otherwise I should
lie, but nevertheless I have faithfully set
them down according to the manner in
which they were told by the ladies, no-
bles, learned men and gentlemen who
gathered together for recreation. And

Vlll DEDICATION.

if now I should let them see the light,
it will not be for the sake of gratifying
my own pride or to bring me honour or
renown, but simply to please all of you,
and especially those who may always
count on my service, and to whom I
owe continual devotion. Take then,
dear ladies, with smiling faces the hum-
ble gift which your servant proffers, and
heed not these snarling whelps, who in
their currish fury would hang upon me
with their ravenous teeth, but read my
book now and then, taking such pleas-
ure in it as time and place will allow,
without, however, neglecting Him from
whom comes all our weal. May you be
happy, ever keeping in mind those who
have your names graven on their hearts,
amongst whom I do not count myself
the least.

GIOVANNI FRANCESCO STRAPAROLA.

[This dedication in the edition of 1555 is dated
from Venice, September ist, 1553-]

B foreword

IT is somewhat strange that
Giovanni Francesco Strapa-
rola, the author of " Piace-
voli Notti," who in his own
day was one of the most popular of the
Italian novelists, should have been so
long neglected. In the first twenty
years of its existence the " Notti " was
sixteen times reprinted. Of the excellent
French translation by Louveau and la
Rivey, the first part of which appeared
in 1560, nine editions were issued before
the end of the century. The distin-
guishing feature of Straparola is the great
variety of subjects treated in the fables.
He is well known to every folk-lorist,
seeing that he is regarded as the principal
distributor of Oriental legends to the

X A FOREWORD.

later fabulists and story-tellers of North-
ern and Western Europe.

One of the chief claims of the " Notti "
on the consideration of later times lies
in the fact that Straparola was the first
writer who gathered together into one
collection the stray fairy tales, for the
most part brought from the East, which
had been made known in the Italian
cities — and in Venice more especially
— by the mouth of the itinerant story-
teller. These tales, incorporated in the
fc Notti " with others of a widely different
character, were without doubt the prin-
cipal source of the numerous French
" Contes des Fees " published in the
seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.
Perrault, Madame D'Aulnoy,and Gueu-
lette took from them many of their best
fables ; and these, having spread in va-
rious forms, helped to tinge with a hue
of Orientalism the popular tales of all
countries — tales which had hitherto
been largely the evolution of local
myths and traditions.

A FOREWORD. Xl

Straparoia turns towards the cheerful
side of things, and the lives of the men
and women he deals with seem to be
less oppressed with the tadium vita
than are the creatures of the Florentine
and Sienese and Neapolitan novel-
writers.

In the pictures he draws, Straparoia
illustrates life with a touch of pathos,
as in the prologue to the second Night,
where he tells of the laughter of the blithe
company, ringing so loud and so hearty
that it seemed to him as if the sound
of their merriment yet lingered in his
ears. There was, therefore, good reason
why Straparola's imaginary exiles from
the turbulent court of Milan should
have sought at Murano, under the shel-
tering wings of St. Mark's Lion, that
ease and gaiety which they would have
looked for in vain at home ; there were
also reasons, equally valid, why he should
make the genius of the place inspire,
with its jocund spirit, the stories, with
which the gentle company gathered

XH A FOREWORD.

around the Princess Lucretia wiled away
the nights of carnival.

In the fables of adventure, and in
every other case where such treatment
is possible, Straparola deals largely with
the supernatural. All the western ver-
sions, except Straparola's, of the story
best known to us as " Gilletta of Nar-
bonne" and as "All's Well that Ends
Well," are worked out without calling
in auxiliaries of any unearthly character.

The interest of the reader is kept
alive, by accounts of the trials and dan-
gers— a trifle ludicrous now and again
— which heroes and heroines are called
to undergo, the taste of the age prefer-
ring apparently this stimulant to the
intense dramatic power exhibited in the story
of Malgherita, and demanding that the
ending should be a happy one, for the
pair of lovers nearly always marry in
the end, and live long and blissful years.

proem*

The Princess Lucretia And Her

Joyous Company Assembled

For The Entertainments.

»oofc the first

PROEM.

|N Milan, the capital of Lom-
bardy, an ancient city
abounding in graceful la-
dies, adorned with sump-
tuous palaces, and rich in
all those things which are fitted to so
magnificent a town, there resided Ot-
taviano Maria Sforza, Bishop-elect of
Lodi, to whom by claim of heredity
(Francesco Sforza, Duke of Milan, be-
ing dead) the sovereignty of the state
rightfully belonged. But through the
falling in of evil times, through bitter
hatreds, through bloody battles, and
through the never-ending vicissitudes
of state affairs, he departed thence and
betook himself secretly to Lodi with

3

4 STRAP AROLA.

his daughter Lucretia, the wife of Gio-
vanni Francesco Gonzaga, cousin of
Federico, Marquis of Mantua, and
there they abode some months. Long
time had not passed before his kinsmen
discovered his whereabouts, and began
forthwith to annoy him ; so the un-
happy prince, finding himself still the
object of their ill will, took with him
what jewels and money he had about
him, and withdrew with his daughter,
who was already a widow, to Venice,
where they found friendly reception
from Ferier Beltramo, a noble gentle-
man of most benevolent nature, amiable
and graceful, who with great courtesy
gave them pressing invitation to take
up their abode in his own house. But
to share the home of another generally
begets restraint, so the duke, after ma-
ture deliberation, resolved to depart and
to find elsewhere a dwelling of his own.
Wherefore, embarking one day with his
daughter in a small vessel, he went to
Murano, and having come there his eyes

PROEM. 5

fell upon a marvellously beautiful pal-
ace which at that time stood empty.
He entered it, and having taken note
of its lovely position, its lofty halls, its
superb loggias, its pleasant gardens filled
with smiling flowers and rich in all
sorts of fruit and blooming herbs, he
found them all highly to his taste.
Then he mounted the marble staircase
and surveyed the magnificent hall, the
exquisite chambers, and the balcony
built over the water, which commanded
a view of the whole place. The prin-
cess, captivated by the charm of the
pleasant spot, besought her father so
strongly with soft and tender speeches,
that he to please her fancy hired the
palace for their home. Over this she
rejoiced greatly, for morning and even-
ing she would go upon the balcony to
watch the scaly fish which swam about
in numerous shoals through the clear
salt water, and in seeing them dart about
now here now there she took the great-
est delight. And because she was now

O STRAPAROLA.

forsaken by the ladies who had formerly
been about her court, she chose in their
places ten others as beautiful as they
were good ; indeed, time would fail
wherein to describe their virtues and
their graces. Of these the first was Lo-
dovica, who had lovely eyes sparkling
like the brightest stars, and everyone
who looked upon her could not but
admire her greatly. The next was Vi-
cenza, of excellent carriage, of fine figure,
and of polished manners, whose lovely
and delicate face shone with refreshing
beauty upon all who beheld it. The
third was Lionora, who, although by
the natural fashion of her beauty she
seemed somewhat haughty, was withal
as kindly and courteous as any lady to
be found in all the world. The fourth
was Alteria, with lovely fair hair, who
held her womanly devotion ever at the
service of the Signora. The fifth was
Lauretta, lovely in person, but somewhat
disdainful, whose clear and languishing
glances surely enslaved any lover who

PROEM. 7

ventured to court them. The sixth was
Eritrea, who, though she was small of
stature, yielded to none of the others
in beauty and grace, seeing that she had
two brilliant eyes, sparkling even brighter
than the sun's rays, a small mouth, and
a rounded bosom, nor was there to be
found in her anything at all which was
not worthy of the highest praise. The
seventh was Cateruzza, surnamed Bru-
netta, who, all graceful and amorous as
she was, with her sweet and loving words
entangled not only men in her snares,,
but could even have made descend from
heaven the mighty Jove himself. The
eighth was Arianna, who, though young
in years, was grave and sedate in her
seeming, gifted with a fluent tongue,
and encompassed with divine virtues,
worthy of the highest praise, which shone
like the stars scattered about the heav-
ens. The ninth was Isabella, a highly-
gifted damsel, and one who, on account
of her wit and skilful fence of tongue,
commanded the admiration of the whole

o STRAPAROLA.

company. The last was Fiordiana, a
prudent damsel, with a mind stored with
worthy thoughts, and a hand ever prompt
to virtuous deeds beyond any other lady
in all the world. These ten charming
damsels gave service to their Princess
Lucretia both in a bevy and singly.
The Signora, in addition to these, chose
two matrons reverend of aspect, of no-
ble blood, of mature age, and of ster-
ling worth, to assist her with their wise
counsels, the one to stand at her right
hand and the other at her left. Of
these one was the Signora Chiara, wife
of Girolamo Guidiccione, a gentleman
of Ferrara; and the other the Signora
Veronica, the widow of Santo Orbat, of
one of the oldest houses of Crema. To
join this gentle and honourable company
there came many nobles and men of
learning, amongst whom were Casal Bo-
lognese, a bishop, and likewise ambas-
sador of the King of England, and the
learned Pietro Bembo, knight of Rhodes
and preacher to the citizens of Milan, a

PROEM. 9

man of distinguished parts and standing
highest in the Signora's favour. After
these came Bernardo Capello, counted
one of the chief poets of the time, the
amiable Antonio Bembo, Benedetto
Trivigiano, a man of jovial easy man-
ners, and Antonio Molino, surnamed
Burchiella, with his pretty wit, Ferier
Beltramo, a courteous gentleman, and
many others whom it would be tedious
to name in turn. It was the custom of
these, or at any rate of the greater part
of them, to assemble every evening at
the palace of the Signora Lucretia, and
to entertain her with graceful dances,
and playful discourse, and music and
song, thus graciously beguiling the fleet-
ing hours. Sometimes, too, certain prob-
lems would be propounded, to which the
Signora alone could find solution ; but
as the days of Carnival drew nigh, days
always vowed to playfulness and riot,
the Signora bade them, under pain of
her displeasure, to assemble next even-
ing on purpose to arrange what manner

10 STRAPAROLA.

of feast they themselves should keep.
At the dusk of the next evening they
all duly appeared in obedience to her
behest, and, having seated themselves
according to their rank, the Signora thus
addressed them : " Honourable gentle-
men and you gracious ladies, now that
we are come together according to our
wont, it seems well to me that we should
order these pleasant and gentle diversions
of ours so as to furnish us with some
jovial pastime for the days of Carnival
which are yet to run. Each one of you
therefore will propose what may seem
most acceptable, and the form of di-
version which proves to be to the taste
of the greatest number shall — if it be
seemly and decorous — be adopted."

The ladies, and the gentlemen as well,
declared with one voice that everything
should be left to the Signora's decision ;
and she, when she perceived their will,
turned towards the noble company and
said : " Since it pleases you that I should
settle the order of our entertainment, I,

PROEM. 1 1

for my part, would counsel that every
evening, as long as Carnival lasts, we
should begin with a dance ; then that
five ladies should sing some song of their
own choosing, and this finished, that
these five ladies, in order to be deter-
mined by lot, should tell some story,
ending with an enigma which we will
solve, if our wit be sufficient therefor.
At the end of the story-telling we will
disperse to our homes for the night.
But if these propositions of mine be not
acceptable to you, I will readily bow to
any other which may please you, and now
I invite you to make your wishes known."
The project set forth by the Signora
won the favour of all ; wherefore she
commanded a golden vase to be brought
forthwith, and into this were cast papers
bearing the names of five of the damsels
present. The first to be drawn forth
was that of the fair Lauretta, who, bash-
ful as she was, blushed softly as the early
hues of dawn. Next came the name of
Alteria, then Cateruzza, then Eritrea,

12 STRAPAROLA.

and then Arianna. The drawing over,
the Signora caused to be brought in the
musical instruments, and set on the head
of Lauretta a wreath of laurel in token
that she should make beginning of their
entertainment on the evening following.
It now pleased the Signora that the
company should fall to dancing, and al-
most before she had signified this wish
to Signor Antonio Bembo, that gallant
gentlemen took by the hand Fiordiana,
with whom he was somewhat enamoured,
and the others of the company followed
this example straightway, and kept up
the measure merrily. Loath to forego
such pleasure, they gave over reluctantly,
and bandying many soft speeches, the
young men and the damsels withdrew
to another apartment, in which were laid
out tables with sweetmeats and rare
wines, and there they spent a pleasant
time in jesting one with another. When
their merriment was over, they took
leave of the Signora, who gracefully dis-
missed them all.

PROEM. 1 3

As soon as the company had come
together the next evening in the beauti-
ful palace of the Signora, she signed to
the fair Lauretta to begin her singing,
and Lauretta without waiting for farther
command stood up, and, after respect-
fully saluting the Signora, went up on a
raised platform, upon which was placed
a beautiful chair covered with draperies
of rich silk. Then having called her
four chosen companions, they sang in
tender angelic cadence the following song
in praise of the Signora :

SONG.

Lady, by your kindly hand,
Which ever waits on love's behest ;
By your voice of sweet command,
That bids us in your presence rest ;
You hold in fee your servants' love,
And rank with spirits blest above.

You quit the city's din and heat,
And let us in your smile rejoice ;
You call us willing to your feet.
To listen to our lady's voice ;
Then let us loudly celebrate
Your dignity and queenly state.

14 STRAP AROLA.

And though upon our charmed sight
Earth's fairest visions soft may fall ;
Your grace, your wit, your beauty bright*
Will blur them and outshine them all.
To laud another should we seek,
Our tongues your praise alone would speak.

When the five damsels gave over sing-
ing, in token that their song had come
to an end, the instruments began to
sound, and the graceful Lauretta, upon
whom the lot had fallen to tell the first
story of the evening, gave the following
fable without waiting for further sign
from the Signora.

Wgbt tbe first

tbe first

THE FIRST FABLE.

, son of Bainallia Scaglfa, quits ©enoa
ant goes to fHontferrat, fofjere !je tiisobegs
certain injunctions lafo upon fjtm bg fjis
father's testament, anti is confcmnelj to fceatfj
tfjerefor ; but, being tieli&erelJ, ^e returns to
fjfe oton countrg.

N every work, let it be good
or bad, which we undertake,
or propose to undertake, we
ought first to consider the is-
sue thereof. Wherefore, as we are now
about to make beginning of our sport-
ive and pleasant entertainment, I will
protest that it would have been vastly
more agreeable to me, had the lot willed
it that some other lady should begin the
story-telling ; because I do not feel my-
17

* NIGHT THE FIRST.

self in any wise competent for the un-
dertaking ; because I am wanting in that
fluency of speech which is so highly ne-
cessary in discourse of this kind, seeing
that I have had scanter usage in the art
of elocution than the charming ladies I
see around me. But, since it pleases
you, and has been decided by lot that I
should be the first, I will begin — so as
not to cause any inconvenience to this
worshipful assemblage — my task of
story-telling with the best of the faculties
granted to me by divine providence. I
will moreover leave open for those of my
companions who shall come after me a
wide and spacious field so that they may
be able to relate their fables in an easier
and more graceful style than I have at
command.

Blessed, nay most blessed that son
must be held to be who obeys his father
with all due reverence, forasmuch as he
thereby carries out the commands of the
Eternal God, and lives long in the land,
and prospers in all his works. And on

THE FIRST F4BLE. 19

the other hand he who is disobedient
may be reckoned unhappy, nay most
unhappy, seeing that all his undertak-
ings come to a wretched and ill-starred
end, as you will easily understand from
the fable I am about to relate to you.

You must know then, gentle ladies,
that at Genoa (a very ancient city, and
as pleasant a one as there is in the world)
there lived, not long ago, a gentleman
named Rainaldo Scaglia, a man of great
wealth, and endowed no less generously
with wit and knowledge. He had a son
called Salardo, whom he loved beyond
all his other possessions, and this youth
he had caused to be educated in every
worthy and liberal art, letting him want
nothing which might serve for his train-
ing and advancement. It happened that
in his old age a heavy sickness came upon
Rainaldo, who, seeing that his end was
near, called for a notary, and made his
will, which gave to Salardo all his goods.
Beyond this he begged his son to honour
his memory by keeping certain precepts

20 NIGHT THE FIRST.

ever in his mind, and never to act counter
thereto. The first precept was that, no
matter how great might be the love he
had for his wife, he should never trust
her with any important secret. The sec-
ond was that he should never adopt an-
other man's child as his own, supposing
his marriage to be a fruitless one. The
third was that he should never abide in
a state, of which the chief magistrate
wielded powers of life and death un-
checked. Having given to his son these
precepts, Rainaldo turned his face to the
wall, and breathed his last.

After his father's death, Salardo, a
young, rich, well-born gallant, grieved
but moderately ; and, in lieu of trou-
bling about the administration of his
estates or taking to heart his father's
precepts, was in hot haste to find a wife,
and began to search for one of sufficiently
good descent, and with a person to his
taste. Before his father had been a year
dead, he married Theodora, the daughter
of Messer Odescalco Doria, a Genoese

THE FIRST FABLE. 21

noble of the first rank. She was very
beautiful and of virtuous mind, though
somewhat haughty, and Salardo was so
deeply enamoured of her that he could
not bear, night or day, to let her go out
of his sight. For several years they lived
together without a child being born to
them ; and then Salardo, yearning for an
heir and disregarding the counsel of his
father, determined to adopt a child and
to bring him up as his heir. Having
gained his wife's consent, he lost no time
in carrying out his purpose, and adopted
the son of a poor widow, calling the boy
by the name of Postumius, and educat-
ing him with the utmost care.

In the course of time it happened that
Salardo grew weary of Genoa, and de-
termined to seek a home elsewhere, not
because he did not find the city all that
was fair and pleasant, but simply because
he was infected with that desire for
change which, not seldom, seizes upon
those who live for pleasure alone. There-
fore, with great store of money and jew-

22 NIGHT THE FIRST.

els, and with sumptuous equipage, he
left Genoa with Theodora his beloved
wife, and his adopted son Postumius,
and having traversed Piamonte, made a
halt at Montferrat. Here he soon be-
gan to make the acquaintance of divers
of the citizens, through going with them
to the chase, and in other social gather-
ings in which he took great delight;
and, in consequence of his wealth and
generosity, he soon achieved a position
of honour and repute.

The rumour of Salardo's splendid hos-
pitality came before long to the ears of
the ruling prince, the Marquis of Mont-
ferrat, who, when he saw that the new-
comer was a handsome young man, well
born, rich, of courtly manners, and ready
for any gallant enterprise, took him into
high favour and would seldom let a day
pass without seeing him. At last, so
great was the influence of Salardo over
the marquis, it fell out that anyone who
wanted a favour done to him by the
latter would always manage to let his

THE FIRST FABLE. 23

petition pass through Salardo's hands.
Wherefore Salardo, mindful of the fa-
vour he enjoyed, was ever eager to devise
some new pleasure for his patron, who,
as became a young man, was much given
to field sports, and kept a great number
of falcons and hounds for the chase, and
all appurtenances of venery, worthy of
his high estate. But he would never
go hunting or hawking save in the com-
pany of Salardo.

One day Salardo, being alone, began
to consider the great fortune which had
befallen him through the favour of the
prince, and by-and-by his thoughts
turned to his son Postumius, how dis-
creet, and dutiful, and upright, and grace-
ful he was. * Ah ! ' he said to himself,
* my poor old father was indeed sorely
in error about these precepts of his. He
must, like many old men, have become
imbecile with age ; either this cause, or
some frenzy, must have urged him to
command me so particularly not to adopt
a strange child as my own, or to become

24 NIGHT THE FIRST.

the subject of an absolute prince. I
now see the folly of his precepts, for
what son born to a father could be
more sober, courteous, gentle, and obe-
dient, than Postumius, whom I have
adopted, and where should I find greater
affection and more honourable treatment
than is given to me by the marquis, an
absolute prince and one knowing no
superior ? And, exalted as he is, he
pays me so much worship and love that
it seems sometimes as if I stood in the
highest place, and he in one beneath me.
Of a truth I know not what to think of
it ; of a truth it is a common trick of
old people to forget the tastes and in-
clinations of their youth, and to lay
down for their children rules and regu-
lations, imposing thereby burdens which
they themselves would not touch with
the tips of their fingers. And this they
do, moved not by love, but by the
craving to keep their offspring longer
in subjection. Now, because I have
disburdened myself of two of the pledges

THE FIRST FABLE. 25

imposed upon me by my father without
any evil consequence, I will quickly get
rid of the third ; for I am assured that
when I shall be free from it my dear
wife will only love me the more. And
she herself, whom I love more than the
light of my eyes, will give ample proof
of the imbecility, or even madness, of
wretched old age, which finds its chief
joy in imposing, with its dead hand,
intolerable restrictions on the living.
Truly my father must have been insane
when he made his will, for to whom is
my trust due if not to her who has left
her home and kinsfolk and become of
one heart and soul with me. Surely I
may confide to her any secret, however
important it may be ; so I will put her
fidelity to the test, not on my own ac-
count, for I doubt it not, but to prove
her strength, and to give an example to
those foolish ones who rate disobedience
to the wishes of dead and gone dotards
as an unpardonable sin.'

In these terms Salardo girded at his

26 NIGHT THE FIRST.

father's wise injunctions, and deliberated
how he might best rid himself of them
entirely. After a little he left his house
and went over to the mews at the pal-
ace, where the falcons of the marquis
were kept, and of these he took one
which was a great favourite of its owner,
and secretly conveyed it to the house
of a friend of his whose name was Fran-
cesco. He handed over the bird to his
friend, and begged him, for the sake of
the love there was between them, to
hold it for him till the time should
come when he might disclose the object
of his request. Then, when he had
returned to his home, he took a falcon
of his own, and, having privily killed
it, he bore it to his wife, saying : f The-
odora, my beloved wife, I, as you well
know, find it hard to get a moment's
rest on account of the many hours I
am compelled to spend in attendance
on the marquis, hunting, or fowling, or
jousting, or in some other sport ; and
sometimes I hardly know whether I am

THE FIRST FABLE. 2/

dead or alive. Wherefore, to keep him
from spending all his time over the
chase, I have played him a trick he will
relish but little. However, it may per-
haps keep him at home, and give us
and others some repose.' To this his
wife said : c And what have you done ? '
' I have killed his best falcon,' Salardo
replied, * the favourite of all ; and when
he looks for it in vain I believe he will
die of rage.' And here he lifted his
cloak and took out the falcon which he
had killed, and, having handed it over
to his wife, directed her to have it cooked
for supper. When Theodora heard this
speech, and saw the dead falcon, she
was deeply moved to grief, and, turning
to Salardo, reproached him severely for
his foolish jest. c For what reason have
you committed such a grave offence,'
she said, c and put such an insult on the
marquis, who holds you so dear, and
heaps such high favour upon you, and
sets you above all others ? Alas ! Sa-
lardo, I fear our ruin is near. If, per-

28 NIGHT THE FIRST.

adventure, the marquis should come to
know what you have done, you would
assuredly be in great danger of death.'
Salardo answered : c But how can he ever
know this ? The secret is yours and
mine alone, and, by the love .you have
borne and still bear me, I pray you be
careful not to reveal it, for if he should
learn it our ruin would be complete.'
' Have no fear of this,' said Theodora,
1 1 would rather die than disclose it.'

The falcon was cooked and served at
supper, and Salardo and his wife took
their seats, but the lady refused to eat
of the bird, though Salardo, with gentle
words, enticed her thereto. At last, as
she remained obstinate, he gave her such
a buffet on the face that her cheek be-
came scarlet from the blow. Wherefore
she began to weep and lament bitterly
that he should thus misuse her, and at
last rose from the table, muttering be-
neath her breath that she would bear in
mind that blow as long as she might live,
and that in due time she would repay

THE FIRST FABLE. 29

him. When morning was come, she stole
early from her bed, and hastened to tell
the marquis of the falcon's death, which
news so fired him with rage that he or-
dered Salardo to be seized forthwith, and
to be hanged without trial, and all his
goods to be divided into three parts, of
which one should be given to his wife
as accuser, another to his son, and the
remaining one to the man who should
act as hangman.

Now Postumius, who was now a lusty
well-grown youth, when he heard his
father's doom and the disposition of
his goods ordered by the marquis, ran
quickly to Theodora and said to her :
' Mother, would it not be wiser for me
to hang my father myself, thus gaining
the third of his goods which would other-
wise pass to a stranger.' And to this
Theodora replied : ' Truly, my son, you
speak well, for if you do this, your fa-
ther's riches will remain with us intact.'
So Postumius went straightway to the
marquis to ask leave to hang his father,

3° NIGHT THE FIRST.

and thus earn the hangman's share, which
boon the marquis graciously allowed.

Now Salardo had confided the whole
of his secret to his faithful friend Fran-
cesco, and at the same time had begged
him, when the hangman should be ready
to do his work, to go to the marquis
and beg him to let Salardo be brought
before him, and graciously to listen to
what he might have to say in his de-
fence, and Francesco was loyal in carry-
ing out this request. Meantime, the
wretched Salardo, loaded with fetters,
was awaiting in prison the hour which
should see him led to a disgraceful death
on the scaffold. c Now I know/ he cried,
with bitter weeping, f that my good old
father in his wisdom gave me those pre-
cepts for my profit. He gave me sage
counsel, and I, senseless ribald as I am,
cast it aside. He, mindful of my safety,
warned me against my domestic enemies,
and I have delivered myself into their
hands, and handed over to them my
riches to enjoy. He, well skilled in the

THE FIRST FABLE. 31

disposition of despots, who in the space
of an hour will love and hate, exalt and
abase, counselled me to shun them ; but
I, as if eager to sacrifice at once my sub-
stance, my honour, and my life, thrust
my head into the jaws of this marquis,
and put my faithless wife to the proof.
Ah, Salardo, better had it been for you
to follow in your father's footsteps, and
let others seek the company of princes !
Now I see into what strait my foolish
confidence in myself, in my wife, in my
wicked son, and, above all, in this un-
grateful marquis, has led me. Now I
see the value of the love of this prince
forme. How could he deal more cruelly
with me than by robbing me of my
goods, my life, and my honour in one
blow, showing thus how his love has
turned to hate ? I recognize now the
truth of the proverb which says that a
prince is like wine in a flagon, sweet in
the morning and sour at eve. Where
is now my nobility and my kinsmen?
Is this the end of my loyalty, upright-

32 NIGHT THE FIRST.

ness, and courtesy ? O my father, I
believe that, dead though you be, when
you gaze into the mirror of eternal
goodness, and see me about to be hanged,
because, forsooth, I disbelieved and dis-
regarded your wise and loving counsel,
you will pray to God to have compassion
on my youthful errors, and I, your dis-
obedient and ungrateful son, pray to you
also for pardon.'

While the unhappy Salardo was thus
communing with himself, Postumius,
with the air of a practised hangman, went
with a body of police to the prison, and,
arrogantly presenting himself to Salardo,
spake thus : f My father, forasmuch as
you are bound to be hanged by the order
of the marquis, and as the third part of
your goods is to go to him who ties the
noose, I am sure, for the love you bear
me, you will not be wroth at the part I
have chosen to play, seeing that thereby
your goods, in lieu of passing to stran-
gers, will remain with your own family.'

Salardo, after listening attentively to

THE FIRST FABLE. 33

this speech, replied : c God bless you, my
son ; the course you have chosen pleases
me much, and if at first the thought of
death terrified me, I am now content to
die after listening to your words. Do
your office, therefore, quickly.' Postu-
mius first implored his father's pardon,
and then, having kissed him, put the
halter about his neck, and exhorted him
to meet death with patience. Salardo,
when he saw the turn things were taking,
stood astonished, and, after a little, was
led out of prison with his arms bound
and a halter round his neck, and, accom-
panied by the hangman and the officers,
was hurried towards the place of execu-
tion. Arrived there, he turned his back
towards the ladder which stood against
the gibbet, and in this attitude he
mounted step by step. When he had
reached the top he looked down coura-
geously upon the assembly, and told them
at full length the cause which had brought
him there, and with gentle words he im-
plored pardon for any affront he might

34 NIGHT THE FIRST.

have given, and exhorted all young peo-
ple to be obedient to their fathers. When
the people heard for what cause Salardo
was condemned, there was not one who
did not lament his unhappy fate and pray
he might yet be pardoned.

While the events above named were
taking place, Francesco betook himself
to the palace, and, having been intro-
duced, thus addressed the marquis:
'Most worshipful sir, if ever you have
been prompted to show pity towards any-
one, you are now doubly bound to deal
mercifully with the case of this friend of
yours who is now, for no fault of his, led
out to suffer a shameful death. Con-
sider, my lord, for what reason you
condemned Salardo, who loved you so
dearly, and never by thought or deed
wrought an offence against you. Most
gracious prince, only suffer your faithful
friend to be brought into your presence,
and I will clearly demonstrate to you
his innocence.' The marquis, with his
eyes aflame with rage at Francesco's pe-

THE FIRST FABLE. 35

tition, made an effort to thrust him out
of his presence, but the suppliant threw
himself down at the feet of the marquis,
and, embracing his knees, cried out with
tears: 'As you are a just prince, have
pity, O noble marquis! and let not the
guiltless Salardo die because of your
anger. Calm yourself, and I will prove
his innocence ; stay your hand but one
hour, for the sake of that justice which
you and your fathers have always rever-
enced, lest it be said of you that you put
your friend to death without cause.'

The marquis, violently angered against
Francesco, now broke silence : ' I see you
wish to go the way of Salardo. If you
go on enraging me thus I will assuredly
have you set by his side.' 'My lord,'
Francesco replied, * I ask for no greater
boon than to be hanged alongside Sa-
lardo, if, after having made inquiry, you
do not find him innocent.' This last
speech moved the marquis somewhat, for
he reasoned that Francesco would never
have spoken thus without being assured

36 NIGHT THE FIRST.

of Salardo's innocence, seeing that he
thereby ran the risk of the halter him-
self. Wherefore he accorded the hour's
delay, and, having warned Francesco that
he must look to be hanged if he should
fail to prove his friend's innocence, he
sent a messenger straightway to the place
of justice with an order to delay the exe-
cution, and to bring Salardo, bound as
he was and with the rope about his neck,
and the hangman and officers as well,
into his presence without delay.

Salardo, on being brought before the
marquis, noted that his face was still
clouded with anger, and outspake at once
with clear voice and undaunted carriage :
* My lord, the service I freely gave you,
and the love I bore you, scarcely de-
served such a reward as the shame and
indignity you have put upon me in thus
condemning me to a disgraceful death.
I admit that my folly, so to call it, de-
served your anger; but I was guilty of
no crime heinous enough to warrant you
in condemning me thus hastily and un-

THE FIRST FABLE. 37

heard. The falcon, on account of which
your anger was kindled, lives safe and
sound. It was never in my mind to kill
it or to insult you. I wanted to use it
as a means of trying an experiment, the
nature of which I will now disclose to
you.' Having thus spoken, Salardo
bade Francesco go fetch the falcon and
return it to its master ; and then he told
the marquis the whole story of the pre-
cepts he had received from his father,
and how he had disregarded every one.
The marquis, when he listened to this
frank and candid speech, and saw his
falcon, handsome and well nourished as
ever, was, for the moment, struck dumb ;
but when he had fully realized his error
of having condemned a guiltless man to
death unheard, he raised his eyes, which
were full of tears, and turned them on
Salardo, saying: "Salardo, if you could
clearly realize all I feel at this moment,
you would know that the pain you have
suffered from the halter round your neck
and the bonds about your arms is as

3 NIGHT THE FIRST.

nought compared with the anguish which
now torments me. I can hardly hope
ever to be happy again after having done
so grievous an injury to you, who loved
and served me so faithfully. If it were
possible that all should be undone, how
gladly would I undo it; but, since this
is out of the question, I will do my ut-
most to wipe out my offence, and to
give you all the reparation I can.'

Having thus spoken, the marquis
with his own hands unfastened the halter
from Salardo's neck, and loosened his
bonds, embracing him the while with the
greatest tenderness ; and, having taken
him by the right hand and led him to a
seat by his own, he ordered the halter to
be put round the neck of Postumius, and
the youth to be led away to execution,
because of his wicked conduct ; but this
Salardo would not permit. * Postumius,'
he said to the wretched youth, ' what shall
I now do with you, whom, for the love
of God, I have nurtured from childhood,
only to be so cruelly deceived ? On one

THE FIRST FABLE. 39

side is my past love for you ; on the
other, the contempt I feel for the wicked
deed you planned to do. One calls upon
my fatherly kindness to forgive you, the
other bids me harden my heart against
you. What then shall I do ? If I par-
don you, men will jeer at my weakness ;
if I punish you as you deserve, I shall
go counter to the divine exhortation to
forgiveness. But that men may not tax
me either with too great leniency, or too
great severity, I will neither make you
suffer in your person, nor will I myself
endure the sight of you any more ; and
in place of my wealth which you so greed-
ily desired, you shall have the halter
which you knotted round my neck, and
keep it always as a remembrance of your
wicked deed. Now begone, and let me
never see you or hear of you again.'

With these words he drove out the
wretched Postumius, of whom nothing
more was ever heard. Theodora, as
soon as she was told of Salardo's libe-
ration, fled to a certain convent, where

4° MIGHT THE FIRST.

she soon ended her days miserably, and
Salardo, when he heard the news of her
death, took leave of the marquis and re-
turned to Genoa,where, after having given
away all the wealth he did not want for
his own use, he lived long and happily.

During the telling of Lauretta's story
divers of the hearers were moved to tears,
but when they heard that Salardo had
been delivered from the gibbet, and Pos-
tumius ignominiously expelled, and of
Theodora's flight and ill-starred end,
they were heartily glad. The Signora
gave the word to Lauretta to propound
her enigma, so that the order of enter-
tainment agreed upon the previous even-
ing might be observed, and the damsel
with a smiling face gave it in these words :

In a prison pent forlorn,
A tiny son to me was born.
Ah, cruel fate ! The savage elf,
Scarce bigger than a mite himself,
Devoured me in his ravenous lust,
And changed me into sordid dust.
A mother fond I was of late,
Now worse e'en than a slave's my fate.

THE FIRST FABLE. 41

The fair Lauretta, when she saw that
no one was likely to solve her riddle,
said, " This enigma of mine concerns the
dry bean which is imprisoned between
two husks ; where, later on, she engen-
ders a worm no bigger than a mite. This
worm feeds upon her, and finally con-
sumes her, so that not only is she de-
stroyed as a mother, but not even the
condition of a servant is possible for her."
All were pleased at Lauretta's explana-
tion, and Alteria, who sat next to her,
having been selected as the next speaker,
began at once her story without awaiting
the Signora's command.

THE SECOND FABLE.

Casssantm'no, a notefc robber, antj a frienfc of
tfje praetor of Perugia, steals tfje prstor's bib
ant fjis fjorse ILiaroo, but afterinarog becomes
a man of probitg antj gooo repute.

[HE wit of man, dear ladies,
is so keen and subtle, that
one would be hard set to
find a task arduous enough to baffle

42 NIGHT THE FIRST.

it. There is, indeed, a familiar saying
of the common people, that a man does
what he wishes to do ; and this same
proverb it is which has suggested to
me the tale I am about to tell you.
Although it is somewhat ridiculous, it
may yield you some pleasure, or even
instruction, by demonstrating to you the
cunning of those who are thieves by
profession.

In Perugia, an ancient and noble city
of Romagna, renowned for its learning
and for sumptuous living, there abode,
not very long ago, a handsome young
scapegrace named Cassandrino. So ill
was his reputation with the citizens, on
account of his many robberies, that fre-
quent and lengthy complaints thereanent
were made to the praetor by men of all
stations in the city ; but this latter,
though he rated Cassandrino soundly
for his misdeeds, seemed loath to pun-
ish him. Now, though Cassandrino
was, past gainsaying, a thievish knave,
he had one virtue which at least got

THE SECOND FABLE. 43

him credit with the praetor, that is, he
did not rob for the mere love of pelf so
much as to be able, now and then, to
spend magnificently and to offer hand-
some gifts to those who favoured him.
Wherefore, and because he was affable,
courteous, and witty, the praetor looked
upon him so kindly that he would rarely
let pass a day without seeing him.

But since Cassandrino persisted in
these more or less reprehensible courses,
the praetor was forced to give ear to the
complaints which, with full justice, were
laid against him. Being still reluctant
to bring the culprit to justice, on account
of the kindly feeling in his heart, he
summoned Cassandrino one day into an
inner chamber, and began to admonish
him with friendly words, and to exhort
him to have done with his evil ways,
warning him of the perils he was risk-
ing thereby. Cassandrino listened at-
tentively to the praetor's words, and
spake thus in reply : f Sir, I hear and
clearly understand the good counsel

44 NIGHT THE FIRST.

which you, of your great courtesy, have
given to me, and I know full well that
it springs from the generous affection
in which you hold me, and for which I
am most grateful. I am indeed grieved
that we should be plagued with certain
foolish people jealous of others' well-
being, and ever ready to blast their
honour with spiteful words. These
busybodies, who bear such tales about
me, would do better to keep their ven-
omous tongues between their teeth than
to let them run on to my hurt.' The
praetor, swayed by his affection for the
speaker, needed very little persuasion to
believe Cassandrino's story and to turn
a deaf ear to the plaints of his ravages
made by the citizens. It chanced soon
after that Cassandrino, being a guest at
the praetor's table, told him of a youth
who was so marvellously light-fingered
that he could steal anything he had a
mind to, however carefully guarded and
protected it might be. The prastor,
when he heard this, laughed and said :

THE SECOND FABLE. 45

' Cassandrino, this youth can be no other
than you yourself, for there cannot be
another such a crafty trickster ; but, to
put you to the test, I will promise you
a hundred golden florins if you succeed
to-night in stealing the bed out of the
chamber in which I sleep.' Cassandrino
seemed somewhat disturbed at these
words, and then answered : f Sir, you
evidently take me for a thief; but let
me tell you I am not one, nor the son
of one. I live by the sweat of my brow,
and by my own industry, such as it is,
and do for myself the best I can. But
if it be your will to bring me to the
gallows on this score, I will go there
gladly for the sake of the regard I have
ever had, and still have, for you.' After
this speech Cassandrino withdrew, for
he was very anxious to humour the
praetor's whim, and he went about all
day cudgelling his brains to devise how
he might steal the praetor's bed from
under him without betraying himself.
At last he hit on the following scheme.

46 NIGHT THE FIRST.

A certain doctor of the city had lately
died, and on that very day had been
buried in his family vault. After mid-
night Cassandrino stole to the burying-
place, and, having opened the vault,
drew therefrom the dead body of the
doctor by the feet, and, after he had
stripped it, dressed it again in his own
clothes, which fitted so well that any
one would have taken it for Cassandrino
and not for the doctor. He hoisted
the corpse upon his shoulders as well
as he could, and, having made his way
safely to the palace, he scaled the roof,
with the doctor's body on his back, by
a ladder which he had provided, and
began noiselessly to remove the tiles
with an iron crowbar, finally making a
large hole in the ceiling of the room in
which the praetor was sleeping.

The praetor, who was wide awake,
heard distinctly all that was going on,
and laughed to himself, though his roof
was being pulled to pieces, for he ex-
pected every moment to see Cassan-

THE SECOND FABLE. 47

drino enter the room and attempt to
carry off the bed. * Ah ! Messer Cas-
sandrino,' he said to himself, '-you will
not steal my bed to-night.' But while
he was thus chuckling and expecting the
attempt, Cassandrino let fall the dead
body of the doctor through the breach
in the ceiling into the prastor's room.
The noise it made caused him to jump
out of bed and light a candle, and then
he saw what he took to be the body of
Cassandrino (because it was dressed in
that worthy's clothes) lying mangled
and huddled together on the floor.
When he recognized the garments, he
was profoundly grieved, and cried out,
* Ah, what a wretched sight is here !
To gratify my silly caprice I have killed
this man. What will men say if it be
noised abroad that he met his end in
my house ? Of a truth one needs to be
careful.' The praetor, lamenting thus,
went to rouse a faithful servant of his,
and having awakened him, tojd him of
the unhappy mischance, and begged him

48 NIGHT THE FIRST,

go dig a hole in the garden and bury
therein the dead body, so as to prevent
scandal. Whilst the praetor and his ser-
vant were burying the dead body in the
garden, Cassandrino, who had silently
watched the praetor's movements, as soon
as the coast was clear let himself down
by a rope, and having made a parcel of
the bed, carried it away with all possible
haste. After he had buried the body,
the praetor returned to his room ; but
when he prepared to get into bed, no
bed was there. He slept little that
night, wherefore he had plenty of time
to ponder over the cunning and dexter-
ity of his friend Cassandrino.

The next day Cassandrino, according
to his wont, went to the palace and pre-
sented himself to the praetor, who, as
soon as he had set eyes on him, said :
f In truth, Cassandrino, you are the very
prince of thieves ! who else would have
contrived so cunningly to steal my bed ? '
Cassandrino was silent, feigning the ut-
most astonishment, as if he had had no

THE SECOND FABLE. 49

part in the affair. ' You have played an
excellent trick upon me,' the praetor went
on to say, * but I must get you to play
me yet another, in order that I may judge
how far your ingenuity can carry you.
If you can manage to-night to steal my
horse, Liardo — the best I ever had —
I will give you another hundred florins,
in addition to the hundred I have al-
ready promised you.' Cassandrino, when
he heard of this fresh task which was put
upon him, feigned to be much troubled,
and loudly lamented that the praetor
should hold him in such ill repute, beg-
ging him at the same time not to be his
ruin. The praetor, deeming that Cas-
sandrino refused assent to his request,
grew angry and said, f Well, if you will
not do as I bid you, look for no other
fate than to hang by a halter from the
city wall.' Cassandrino, who now saw
that his case was dangerous, and in no
small measure,1 replied : c I will do all I
can to gratify you in what you ask, but

1 Orig. , ed importer altro, che finocchi.

5° NIGHT THE FIRST.

believe me the task you propose is one
beyond my power ; ' and with these
words he departed.

As soon as he was gone, the prater,
who was resolved this time to put Cas-
sandrino's ingenuity to no light trial,
called one of his servants and thus ad-
dressed him : * Go to the stable, and sad-
dle and bridle my horse Liardo ; then
mount him, and keep all night on his
back, taking good heed the while that
he be not stolen.' And he gave orders
to another to see that all the doors of
the palace were well secured with bolts.
That night Cassandrino took all his im-
plements, and repaired to the principal
gate of the palace, where he found the
porter quietly dozing; but, because he
knew well all the secret issues of the
place, he let the porter sleep on, and,
making use of another passage, he gained
the courtyard, and thence passed on to
the stables, which he found fast locked.
With very little trouble he unfastened
the door, and having opened this, he per-

THE SECOND FABLE. 5 1

ceived, to his amazement, that a man was
sitting on the praetor's favourite horse,
with the reins in his hand, but when he
approached he saw the fellow was sound
asleep. The crafty rascal, noting that
the sleeping varlet was senseless as a
statue, at once hit upon a plan, clever
beyond belief. He carefully measured
the height of the horse, and then stole
away into the garden, from whence he
brought back four stout poles, such as
are used in supporting vines on a trellis ;
and having sharpened them at the ends,
he cunningly cut the reins, which the
sleeping servant held in his hand, and
the breast-strap, and the girths, and the
crupper, and every other bond which
stood in his way. Then, having fixed
one of the poles in the ground, with the
upper end dexterously inserted under
one corner of the saddle, he did exactly
the same on the other side, and repeated
the operation at the other two remaining
corners. Next he raised the saddle off
the horse's back (the servant being sound

52 NIGHT THE FIRST.

asleep all the while), and let it rest en-
tirely on the four poles which were firmly
fixed in the ground. Then, there being
no obstacle in his way, he haltered the
horse, and led it off.

The praetor was astir early the next
morning, and repaired forthwith to the
stable, where he expected to find his
horse all safe ; but the sight which met
his eyes was his servant, still sitting fast
asleep on the saddle propped up by four
poles. The praetor, having awakened
him, loaded him with abuse, and, half
dazed with what he had seen, quitted
the stable and returned to the palace.
At the usual hour in the morning Cas-
sandrino betook himself to the palace,
and gave the praetor a merry salute when
he appeared. f Cassandrino,' said the
latter, ( assuredly you carry off the palm
amongst thieves. I may indeed dub you
with the title of " King of the thieves,"
but still should like to ascertain whether
you are a man of wit and cleverness.
You know, I think, Messer Severino,

THE SECOND FABLE. 53

the priest of Sangallo, a village hard by.
Well, if you bring him here to me tied
up in a sack, I promise to give you as
much money again as you have already
earned ; but if you fail in this, be sure
that I will hang you up by the neck.'
This Messer Severino was a man of holy
life, and of the best repute, but in no
wise experienced in worldly affairs, see-
ing that he cared for nought else but the
service of his church. Cassandrino, per-
ceiving that the praetor had set his mind
on working him an injury, said to him-
self: * This man, I plainly see, is bent
on doing me to death ; but in this he
will find himself mistaken, for I will ex-
ecute this task if it is to be done.' Cas-
sandrino, being thus anxious to do the
praetor's bidding, cast about how he
might play a trick upon the priest which
would serve the purpose he had in view,
and ultimately fixed on the following
stratagem. He borrowed from a friend
of his a priest's alb, long enough to come
down to his heels, and a well-broidered

54 NIGHT THE FIRST.

stole, and these he took home to his
lodging. Then he got ready a pair of
beautiful wings, painted in divers col-
ours, which he had fashioned out of
pasteboards, and also a diadem of tinsel,
which shone radiantly. At nightfall he
stole out of the town with his gewgaws,
and went towards the village where Mes-
ser Severino abode, and there he hid him-
self in a thicket of sharp thorns, and lay
close till the day began to dawn. Then
Cassandrino put on the alb, and the stole
round about his neck, and set the diadem
on his head, and fixed the wings on his
shoulders. Having done this, he hid
himself again, and stirred not till the
time had come when the priest should go
forth to ring the bell for the Ave Maria.
Scarcely had Cassandrino vested himself,
when Messer Severino, with his acolyte,
arrived at the church door, which he left
open, and went in to do his morning of-
fice. Cassandrino, who was on the watch,
saw that the door of the church was
standing open while the good priest was

THE SECOND FABLE. 55

ringing the bell, crept out of his hiding-
place, stole softly into the church, and,
when he had entered, went up to the al-
tar and stood upright, holding open a
large sack in his hands. Next he cried
out in a low chanting voice : ' Whoever
wishes to enter into the joys of paradise,
let him get into this sack ; ' and these
words he repeated over and over again.
While he was performing this mummery,
the acolyte came out of the sacristy, and,
when he saw the snow-white alb, and the
diadem shining brilliant as the sun, and
the wings as gorgeous as a peacock's —
to say nothing of the words he heard —
he was altogether amazed ; but when he
had somewhat recovered, he went off to
find the priest, and said to him : * Sir,
sir, I have just seen in the church an
angel of heaven, holding a sack in his
hands, who said : " Whoever wishes to
enter into the joys of paradise, let him
get into this sack ; " and I, for my part,
have made up my mind to do as he bids
me.'

56 NIGHT THE FIRST.

The priest, who was not over well-
furnished in the upper storey, gave full
credence to the acolyte's tale, and, as
soon as he had issued from the sacristy,
saw the angel standing there, clad in
celestial garb, as the acolyte had said.
Now Messer Severino was powerfully
moved by the angel's words, and being
mightily anxious to get safe to paradise,
and at the same time somewhat in fear
lest the clerk should forestall him by
getting first into the sack, made believe
to have left his breviary behind him at
his lodging, and said to the acolyte :
1 Go quickly home and search my cham-
ber diligently, and bring back my brev-
iary which I have left somewhere.'

And while the acolyte was gone to
search for the breviary the priest ap-
proached the angel, making the while a
deep reverence, and crept into the sack.
Cassandrino, who was full of sharp cun-
ning and mischief, seeing that the game
was going as he wished, closed the sack's
mouth at once and tied it firmly. Then

THE SECOND FABLE. 57

he took off the alb, the diadem, and the
wings, and having made a bundle of
these and hoisted it, together with the
sack, on his shoulders, he set out for
Perugia, where he arrived as soon as it
was clear daylight, and at the accustomed
hour presented himself before the praetor
with the sack on his back. Having un-
tied the mouth, he lugged out Messer
Severino, who, finding himself in the
presence of the praetor, and more dead
than alive — conscious likewise that a
fool's trick had been played with him
— made a weighty charge against Cas-
sandrino, crying out at the top of his
voice that he had been robbed and in-
veigled by craft into the sack, to his
great loss and humiliation, and begging
the praetor to make an example of him,
nor to let so great a crime go without
severe punishment, so as to give a clear
warning to all other malefactors. The
praetor, who had already fathomed the
business from beginning to end, could
not contain his laughter, and turning to

5 NIGHT THE FIRST.

Messer Severino thus addressed him :
c My good father and my friend, say
not another word and do not distress
yourself, for you shall never want any
favour, nor fail to have justice done to
you ; although, as I see quite clearly,
you have just been made the victim of
a joke.' The praetor had to say and do
his best to pacify the good priest, and,
having taken a little packet wherein were
several pieces of gold, he gave it to him
and directed that he should be escorted
out of the town. Then, turning to
Cassandrino, he said to him : £ Cassan-
drino, Cassandrino, of a truth your knav-
ish deeds outdo your knavish reputation
which is spread abroad. Wherefore, take
these four hundred golden florins which
I promised you, because you have fairly
gained them, but take care that you bear
yourself more decently in the future than
you have borne yourself in the past, for
if I hear any more complaints of your
knavish pranks, you shall certainly be
hanged.'

THE SECOND FABLE. 59

Cassandrino hereupon took the four
hundred golden florins, and having duly
thanked the praetor for them, went his
way, and with this money he traded
skilfully and successfully, and in time
became a man of business highly re-
spected by all.

The ladies and gentlemen were much
pleased with Alteria's story, and she be-
ing called upon by the Signora gave her
enigma in the following terms:

While I my nightly vigil kept,
A man I spied, who softly crept
Adown the hall, whereon I said,
" To bed, Sir Bernard, get to bed.
Two shall undress you, four with care
Shut fast the doors, and eight up there
Shall watch, and bid the rest beware."
While these deceiving words I said,
The thievish wight in terror fled.

Alteria, seeing that the hour was late
and that no one was likely to solve her
riddle, gave this explanation : " A gen-
tleman had gone into the country with

6O NIGHT THE FIRST.

all his household, and had left in his
palace an old woman, who prudently
made a practice of going about the
house at nightfall to see if she might
espy any thieves, and one evening it
chanced that she saw a robber on a bal-
cony, who watched her through a hole.
The good old woman refrained from
crying out, and wisely made believe
that her master was in the house, and
a throng of servants as well. So she
said: 'Go to bed, Messer Bernardo, and
let two servants undress you, and four
shut the doors, while eight go upstairs
and guard the house.' And while the
old woman was giving these orders, the
thief, fearing to be discovered, stole
away." When Alteria's clever riddle
had been solved, Cateruzza, who was
seated next to her, remembered that the
third story of this first night was to be
told by her, so with a smiling face she
began.

THE THIRD FABLE. 6 1

THE THIRD FABLE.

e Scarpafico, f)abing bent once tmpefc bjj
tijrrc robbers, bupes tfjem tJjrice in return,
anfc lineg fjappilg tfje rest of fjis tags.

IHE end of Signora Alteria's
story, which she has set forth
with so great skill, supplies
me with a theme for my own,
which peradventure may please you no
less than hers, though on one point it
will show a variance, inasmuch as she
pictured to us Pre Severino neatly en-
trapped by Cassandrino ; while in the
story I am about to tell you, Pre Scar-
pafico threw the net no less adroitly
over divers knaves who were trying to
get the better of him.

Near to Imola, a city always plagued
by factious quarrels and ultimately de-
stroyed thereby, there lived once upon
a time a priest named Scarpafico, who
served the village church of Postema.

62 NIGHT THE FIRST.

He was well to do, but miserly and av-
aricious beyond measure, and he had
for housekeeper a shrewd and clever
woman named Nina, who was so alert
and pushing that she would never scru-
ple to tell any man whatever might come
into her mind. And because she was
faithful and prudent in administering
his affairs he held her in high esteem.

Now when good Pre Scarpafico was
young he was as jolly a priest as there
was to be met in all the country round;
but at this time age had made walking
on foot irksome to him, so the good
Nina was always persuading him to buy
a horse, in order that his days might not
be shortened through too great fatigue.
At last Scarpafico, overborne by the per-
suasions of his servant, went one day
to the market, and having seen there
a mule which appeared exactly to suit
his need, bought it for seven golden
florins.

It happened that there were three
merry fellows at the market that day,

THE THIRD FABLE. 63

of the sort which liefer lives on the
goods of others than on its own earn-
ings— as sometimes happens even in
our own time — and, as soon as they
saw the bargain struck, one said to the
other, ' Comrades, I have a mind that
the mule yonder should belong to us/
'But how can that be managed?' said
the others. Then the first speaker re-
plied, 'We must post ourselves along
the road he will take on his journey
home, about a quarter of a mile apart
one from another, and as he passes each
one must affirm positively that the mule
he has bought is not a mule at all, but
an ass, and if we are brazen enough in
our declaration the mule will be ours.'

Accordingly they started from the
market and stationed themselves sepa-
rately on the road, as they had appointed,
and when Pre Scarpafico approached
the first of the thieves, the fellow, feign-
ing to be on the road to the market,
said, ' God be with you, sir ! ' to which
Scarpafico replied, ' And welcome to you,

64 NIGHT THE FIRST.

my brother.' ' Whence come you, sir ? '
said the thief. * From the market,'
Scarpafico answered. ' And what good
bargains have you picked up there ? '
asked the thief. c This mule,' said Scar-
pafico. f Which mule ? ' exclaimed the
robber. f Why, the mule I am riding,'
returned Scarpafico. £ Are you speak-
ing in sober truth, or do you mock
me ? ' asked the thief; * because it seems
to me to be an ass, and not a mule.'
f Indeed,' Scarpafico answered, and with-
out another word he went his way. Be-
fore he had ridden far he met the next
robber, who greeted him, c Good mor-
row, sir, and where may you come from ? '
£ From the market,' answered Scarpafico.
t And was there aught worth buying ? '
said the robber. * Yes,' answered Scar-
pafico, c I bought this mule which you
see.' c How, sir,' said the robber, c do
you mean to say you bought that for a
mule, and not for an ass ? What rascals
must be about, seeing you have been
thus cheated ! ' c An ass, indeed,' re-

THE THIRD FABLE. 65

plied Scarpafico ; * if anyone else should
tell me this same tale, I will make him
a present of the beast straightway.' Then
going his way, he soon met the third
thief, who said to him, ' Good morrow,
sir. You come mayhap from the mar-
ket ? ' c I do,' replied Scarpafico. ( And
what may you have bought there ? '
asked the robber. ' I bought this mule
which I am riding,' said Scarpafico.
' Mule,' said the fellow ; f do you really
mean what you say ? Surely you must
be joking when you call that beast a
mule, while it is really an ass.' Scarpa-
fico, when he heard this tale, said to
the fellow, ( Two other men I have met
told me the same story, and I did not
believe them, but now it appears certain
that the beast is an ass,' and having dis-
mounted from the mule, he handed it
over to the thief, who, having thanked
the priest for it, went off to join his
companions, leaving good Pre Scarpa-
fico to make his way home on foot.
As soon as he came to his house he

66 NIGHT THE FIRST.

told' Nina how he had bought a nag at
the market, thinking it to be a mule,
but that it had proved to be an ass ; and
how, having been told that he had mis-
taken one beast for the other by several
people he had met on the road home,
he had given the beast to the last of
them. ' Ah, you poor simpleton ! ' cried
Nina. * Cannot you see they have
played you a trick ? I thought you
were cleverer than this. In truth, they
would not have fooled me thus.' * Well,
it is no use to grieve over it,' said Scar-
pafico. c They may have played me a
trick, but see if I do not play them two
in return. Be sure that these fellows,
after having once fooled me, will not rest
content with that, but will soon be weav-
ing some new plot whereby they may
plunder me afresh.'

Not far from Pre Scarpafico's house
there lived a peasant, who had amongst
his goats two which were so much alike
that it was impossible to tell one from
the other. These two goats the priest

THE THIRD FABLE. 6?

bought, and the next day ordered Nina
to prepare a good dinner for himself and
some friends he proposed to invite —
some boiled veal, and roast fowls and
meat, and to make savoury sauces there-
to, and a tart of the sort she was accus-
tomed to serve him with. Then he
took one of the goats and tied it to a
hedge in the garden, and having given
it some fodder, he put a halter round
the neck of the other and led it off to
the market, where he was at once ac-
costed by the three worthies of the late
escapade. * Welcome, good sir, and
what may be your business here to-day ?
You are come, no doubt, to make an-
other good purchase ? ' To which Scar-
pafico replied, c I have come to buy
divers provisions, for some friends are
coming to dine with me ; and if you
will consent to join our feast it will
please me greatly.' The cunning rascals
willingly accepted Scarpafico's invitation,
and he, when he had bought everything
he required, bestowed all his purchases

68 NIGHT THE FIRST.

on the back of the goat, and said to the
beast, c Now go home and tell Nina to
boil this veal, and to roast the fowls and
the meat, and tell her, moreover, to make
savoury sauce with these spices, and a
fair tart. Do you understand ? Now
go in peace/ And with these words he
drove off the laden goat, which, being
left to go where it would, wandered
away, and what befell it no one knows.
Scarpafico and his companions and some
other friends of his strolled about the
market-place till the hour of dinner,
and then they all repaired to the priest's
house, where the first thing they saw on
entering the garden was the goat which
Scarpafico had tied to the hedge, calmly
ruminating after its meal of herbage.
The three adventurers at once set it
down as the goat which Pre Scarpafico
had despatched home with his purchases,
being beyond measure amazed thereat ;
and when they were all come in, the
priest said to Nina, ' Have you pre-
pared everything as the goat told you ? '

THE THIRD FABLE. 69

and she, understanding his meaning,
replied, c Yes, sir, in a few minutes the
roast loin and the fowls and the boiled
veal will be ready, and the sauce made
with spices, and the tart likewise ; all as
the goat told me.'

The three robbers, when they saw
set forth the roast and boiled and the
tart, and heard what Nina said, were
more astonished than ever, and at once
began to cast about how they might get
possession of the goat by theft ; but
when the dinner had come to an end,
and they found themselves as far as ever
from compassing their felonious purpose,
they said to Scarpafico, ' Sir, will you do
us the favour to sell us that goat of
yours ? ' But Scarpafico replied that he
had no wish to part with it, for it was
worth more money than the world held ;
but, after a little, he consented to oblige
them, and to take in exchange for it
fifty golden florins. < But,' he added,
' take warning, and blame me not after-
wards if the goat does not obey you as

70 NIGHT THE FIRST.

it obeys me, for it knows you not or
your ways.'

But the three adventurers heeded not
this speech of Scarpafico, and, without
further parley, carried off the goat, re-
joicing in their bargain. When they
came to their homes, they said to their
wives, * See that you prepare no food
to-morrow save that which we shall send
home by the goat.' On the morrow
they went to the piazza, where they pur-
chased fowls and divers other viands,
and these they packed on the goat's
back, and directed it to go home, and to
tell to their wives all they ordered. The
goat, thus laden, when it was set at lib-
erty, ran away into the country and was
never seen again.

When dinner-hour was come the three
confederates straightway went home and
demanded of their wives whether the
goat had come back safely with the
provisions, and whether they had duly
cooked these according to the directions
given. The women, amazed at what

THE THIRD FABLE. 7l

they heard, cried out, ( What fools and
numskulls you must be to suppose that
a beast like that would do your bidding !
You surely have been prettily duped.
With your cheating other people every
day, it was quite certain you would be
caught yourselves at last.'

As soon as the three robbers saw that
Scarpafico had verily made fools of them,
besides having eased their pockets of
fifty golden florins, they were hotly in-
censed against him, and, having caught
up their arms, they set forth to find
him, swearing they would have his life.
But the cunning priest, who fully ex-
pected that the robbers would seek ven-
geance upon him when they should
discover how he had tricked them, had
taken counsel with Nina thereanent.
' Nina,' he said, c take this bladder, which
you see is full, and wear it under your
dress ; then, when these robbers come,
I will put all the blame on you, and in
my rage will make believe to stab you ;
but I will thrust the knife in this blad-

72 NIGHT THE FIRST.

der, and you must fall down as if you
were dead. The rest you will leave to
me.'

Scarcely had Scarpafico finished speak-
ing when the confederates arrived, and
at once made for Scarpafico as if to kill
him. * Hold, brothers,' he cried, ' what
you would bring against me is none of
my doing, but the work of this servant
of mine, most likely on account of some
affront of which I know nothing.' And,
turning towards Nina, he struck his
knife into the bladder, which he had
previously filled with blood, and she
forthwith feigned to be dead and fell
down, while the blood gushed in streams
about where she lay. Then the priest,
looking upon his work, made great show
of repentance, and bawled out lustily,
1 Oh, wretched man that I am ! what
have I done in thus foolishly slaying this
woman who was the prop of my old
age ? How shall I manage to live with-
out her ? ' But after a little he fetched
a bagpipe, made according to a fancy of

Pre Scarpafico Dupes The Robber*

THIRD FABLE

THE THIRD FABLE. 73

his own, and blew a tune upon it, until
at last Nina jumped up safe and sound,
as if recalled to life.

When the robbers saw what happened
they forgot their anger in their astonish-
ment, and, after a little chaffering, they
purchased the bagpipe for two hundred
florins, and went highly delighted to their
homes. A day or two after it chanced
that one of them fell out with his wife,
and, becoming enraged, stabbed her in
the breast with his knife and killed her.
The husband at once took the bagpipe
which had been bought of Scarpafico,
and blew into them as Scarpafico had
done in hopes of reviving her ; but he
•spent his wind to no purpose, for the
poor woman had verily passed from this
life to the next. When the second thief
saw what his comrade had done, he
cried out, 'What a fool you are ! you
have bungled the affair. Wait and see
how I do it.' And with these words
he seized his own wife by the hair, and
cut her throat with a razor. Then,

74 NIGHT THE FIRST.

taking the bagpipe, he blew with all his
might, but with no better result than
the first. The third fellow, who was
standing by, nothing daunted by the fail-
ure of the others, served his own wife in
the same way to no better purpose ; so
the three were all alike wifeless. With
hotter anger against Scarpafico than ever,
they hurried to his house, resolved that
this time they would pay no heed to his
plausible tales, and seized him and thrust
him into a sack, purposing to drown him
in a neighbouring river. But as they bore
him along something gave them an alarm,
and they ran to hide themselves for a
while, leaving Pre Scarpafico in his sack
by the wayside.

They had not been gone many min-
utes before a shepherd, driving his flock
to pasture, went by ; and, as he drew
nigh, he heard a plaintive voice saying,
c They want me to take her, but I will
have none of her ; for I am a priest, and
have no concern with such matters.'
The shepherd stopped short, somewhat

THE THIRD FABLE. 75

frightened, because he could not discover
whence came the voice, which kept re-
peating the same words over and over
again ; but, having looked now here, now
there, his eye at last fell on the sack in
which Scarpafico was tied up. The shep-
herd opened the sack and let the priest
come forth, demanding why he had been
thus tied up, and what he meant by the
words he kept uttering. Whereupon
Scarpafico declared that the seigneur of
the town insisted on marrying him to
one of his daughters, but that he himself
had no stomach for the match, because,
besides being a priest, he was too old to
wive. The shepherd, who, like a sim-
pleton, believed every word the cunning
priest told him, at once cried out, £ Good
father, do you think the seigneur would
bestow her upon me ? ' f I believe he
would,' said Scarpafico, ' provided you
get into this sack and let me tie you up.'
The silly shepherd at once crept in, and
Scarpafico, having fastened the sack, got
away from the place as quickly as he

76 NIGHT THE FIRST.

could, driving the poor shepherd's flock
before him.

When an hour or so had passed the
three thieves returned, and, without ex-
amining the sack, they bore it to the
river and threw it in, thus sending the
wretched shepherd to the fate they had
destined for Pre Scarpafico.

They then took their way homewards,
and, as they were conversing, they per-
ceived a flock of sheep grazing hard by,
and at once began to scheme how they
might easiest carry off a couple of lambs.
But when they drew anigh, judge their
amazement at seeing Pre Scarpafico,
whom they believed to be lying at the
bottom of the river, tending the flock as
a shepherd. As soon as they had re-
covered from their amazement, they de-
manded of him how he had managed to
get out of the river, and he straightway
answered : * Away with you ! you have
no more sense than so many jackasses.
If you had thrown me a little farther into
the stream, I should have come back

THE THIRD FABLE. 77

with ten times as many sheep as you see
here.' When the robbers heard this
they cried out, * Ah ! Pre Scarpafico, will
you at last do us a good turn ? Will you
put us into sacks and throw us into the
river ? Then, you see, we shall no longer
have need to be footpads and rascals, and
will live as honest shepherds.' ' Well/
answered Scarpafico, 1 1 will do so much
for you ; indeed, there is no favour in
the world I would not grant you, on
account of the love I bear you ; ' and,
having got three good sacks of strong
canvas, he tied the three thieves therein
so firmly that there was no chance of their
getting out, and threw them into the
river. Thus they went to the place
which was their due, and Scarpafico went
back to Nina with good store of gold
and cattle, and lived many years in hap-
piness and prosperity.

Cateruzza's tale gave great pleasure to
all the company, and won high praise, es-
pecially the part of it which dealt with Pre
Scarpafico's cunning scheme whereby, in

7 8 NIGHT THE FIRST.

exchange for the mule he gave away, he
gained much money and a fine flock of
sheep. Cateruzza then set forth her
enigma :

A sturdy blacksmith and his wife,
Who lived a simple honest life,
Sat down to dine ; and for their fare
A loaf and a half of bread was there.
But ere they finished came the priest,
And with his sister joined the feast.
The loaf in twain the blacksmith cleft,
So three half loaves for the four were left.
Each ate a half, each was content.
Now say what paradox is meant.

The solution of Cateruzza's enigma
was, that the blacksmith's wife was the
priest's sister. When the husband and
wife had sat down to their meal, the
priest came in and joined them, and then,
apparently, there were four of them, to
wit, the blacksmith and his wife, and the
priest and his sister ; but in reality there
were but three. As each one had a third
of the bread they were all contented.
After Cateruzza had explained her very

THE FOURTH FABLE. 79

ingenious enigma, the Signora gave the
signal to Eritrea to give them her story,
and she forthwith began.

THE FOURTH FABLE.

2Tebaioo, Prince of ^alerno, fcrisftes to fjabe ijis
onlg fcaugfjter J9oralice to toife, but sfje,
tfjrougf) fjer fatfjer'0 persecution, flees to IEng=
lanfc, fofjere sfje marries ©enese tfje king, ano
fjas ftg tjim tiuo c^iloren. CJjese, ^abing been
slain bg STeballio, are afaengeli bg tijeir fattjer
<®encse.

CANNOT think there is one
amongst us who has not real-
ized by his own experience
how great is the power of
love, and how sharp are the arrows he
is wont to shoot into our corruptible
flesh. He, like a mighty king, directs
and governs his empire without a sword,
simply by his individual will, as you will
be able to understand from the tenour
of the story which I am about to tell to
you.

You must know, dear ladies, that Te-

80 NIGHT THE FIRST.

baldo, Prince of Salerno, according to
the story I have heard repeated many
times by my elders, had to wife a modest
and prudent lady of good lineage, and
by her he had a daughter who in beauty
and grace outshone all the other ladies
of Salerno ; but it would have been well
for Tebaldo if she had never se^n the
light, for in that case the grave misad-
venture which befell him would never
have happened. His wife, young in
years but of mature wisdom, when she
lay a-dying besought her husband, whom
she loved very dearly, never to take for
his wife any woman whose finger would
not exactly fit the ring which she herself
wore ; and the prince, who loved his wife
no less than she loved him, swore by his
head that he would observe her wish.

After the good princess had breathed
her last and had been honourably buried,
Tebaldo indulged in the thought of wed-
ding again, but he bore well in mind the
promise he had made to his wife, and
was firmly resolved to keep her saying.

THE FOURTH FABLE. 8 1

However, the report that Tebaldo,
Prince of Salerno, was seeking another
mate soon got noised abroad, and came
to the ears of many maidens who, in
worth and in estate, were no whit his in-
feriors ; but Tebaldo, whose first care
was to fulfil the wishes of his wife who
was dead, made it a condition that any
damsel who might be offered to him in
marriage should first try on her finger
his wife's ring, to see whether it fitted,
and not having found one who fulfilled
this condition — the ring being always
found too big for this and too small for
that — he was forced to dismiss them all
without further parley.

Now it happened one day that the
daughter of Tebaldo, whose name was
Doralice, sat at table with her father;
and she, having espied her mother's ring
lying on the board, slipped it on her
finger and cried out, f See, my father,
how well my mother's ring fits me ! '
and the prince, when he saw what she
had done, assented.

82 NIGHT THE FIRST.

But not long after this the soul of
Tebaldo was assailed by a strange and
diabolical temptation to take to wife his
daughter Doralice, and for many days
he lived tossed about between yea and
nay. At last, overcome by the strength
of this devilish intent, and fired by the
beauty of the maiden, he one day called
her to him and said, c Doralice, my
daughter, while your mother was yet
alive, but fast nearing the end of her
days, she besought me never to take to
wife any woman whose finger would not
fit the ring she herself always wore in
her lifetime, and I swore by my head
that I would observe this last request of
hers. Wherefore, when I felt the time
was come for me to wed anew, I made
trial of many maidens, but not one could
I find who could wear your mother's
ring, except yourself. Therefore I have
decided to take you for my wife, for thus
I shall satisfy my own desire without
violating the promise I made to your
mother.' Doralice, who was as pure as

THE FOURTH FABLE. 8 3

she was beautiful, when she listened to
the evil designs of her wicked father, was
deeply troubled in her heart ; but, taking
heed of his vile and abominable lust, and
fearing the effects of his rage, she made
no answer and went out of his presence
with an untroubled face. As there was
no one whom she could trust so well
as her old nurse, she repaired to her at
once as the surest bulwark of her safety,
to take counsel as to what she should do.
The nurse, when she had heard the story
of the execrable lust of this wicked father,
spake words of comfort to Doralice, for
she knew well the constancy and stead-
fast nature of the girl, and that she would
be ready to endure any torment rather
than accede to her father's desire, and
promised to aid her in keeping her vir-
ginity unsullied by such terrible disgrace.
After this the nurse thought of nothing
else than how she might best find a way
for Doralice out of this strait, planning
now this and now that, but finding no
method which gained her entire approval.

84 NIGHT THE FIRST.

She would fain have had Doralice take
to flight and put long distance betwixt
her and her father, but she feared the
craft of Tebaldo, and lest the girl should
fall into his hands after her flight, feeling
certain that in such event he would put
her to death.

So while the faithful nurse was thus
taking counsel with herself, she suddenly
hit upon a fresh scheme, which was what
I will now tell you. In the chamber of
the dead lady there was a fair cassone, or
clothes-chest, magnificently carved, in
which Doralice kept her richest dresses
and her most precious jewels, and this
wardrobe the nurse alone could open.
So she removed from it by stealth all
the robes and the ornaments that were
therein, and bestowed them elsewhere,
placing in it a good store of a certain
liquor which had such great virtue, that
whosoever took a spoonful of it, or even
less, could live for a long time without
further nourishment. Then, having
called Doralice, she shut her therein,

THE FOURTH FABLE. 85

and bade her remain in hiding until such
time as God should send her better for-
tune, and her father be delivered from
the bestial mood which had come upon
him. The maiden, obedient to the good
old woman's command, did all that was
told her ; and the father, still set upon
his accursed design, and making no effort
to restrain his unnatural lust, demanded
every day what had become of his
daughter ; and, neither finding any trace
of her, or knowing aught where she could
be, his rage became so terrible that he
threatened to have her killed as soon as
he should find her.

Early one morning it chanced that
Tebaldo went into the room where the
chest was, and as soon as his eye fell up-
on it, he felt, from the associations con-
nected with it, that he could not any
longer endure the sight of it, so he gave
orders that it should straightway be taken
out and placed elsewhere and sold, so
that its presence might not be an offence
to him. The servants were prompt to

86 NIGHT THE FIRST

obey their master's command, and, hav-
ing taken the thing on their shoulders,
they bore it away to the market-place.
It chanced that there was at that time
in the city a rich dealer from Genoa,
who, as soon as he caught sight of the
sumptuously carved cassone, admired it
greatly, and settled with himself that he
would not let it go from him, however
much he might have to pay for it. So,
having accosted the servant who was
charged with the sale of it, and learnt the
price demanded, he bought it forthwith,
and gave orders to a porter to carry it
away and place it on board his ship.
The nurse, who was watching the traf-
ficking from a distance, was well pleased
with the issue thereof, though she grieved
sore at losing the maiden. Wherefore
she consoled herself by reflecting that
when it comes to the choice of evils it is
ever wiser to avoid the greater.

The merchant, having set sail from
Salerno with his carven chest and other
valuable wares, voyaged to the island of

THE FOURTH FABLE. /

Britain, known to us to-day as England,
and landed at a port near which the coun-
try was spread out in a vast plain. Be-
fore he had been there long, Genese,
who had lately been crowned king of the
island, happened to be riding along the
seashore, chasing a fine stag, which, in
the end, ran down to the beach and took
to the water. The king, feeling weary
and worn with the long pursuit, was fain
to rest awhile, and, having caught sight
of the ship, he sent to ask the master of
it to give him something to drink ; and
the latter, feigning to be ignorant he was
talking to the king, greeted Genese fa-
miliarly, and gave him a hearty welcome,
finally prevailing upon him to go on
board his vessel. The king, when he
saw the beautiful clothes-chest so finely
carved, was taken with a great longing
to possess it, and grew so impatient to
call it his own that every hour seemed
like a thousand till he should be able to
claim it. He then asked the merchant
the price he asked for it, and was an-

88 NIGHT THE FIRST.

swered that the price was a very heavy
one. The king, being now more taken
than ever with the beautiful handicraft,
would not leave the ship till he had ar-
ranged a price with the merchant, and,
having sent for money enough to pay the
price demanded, he took his leave, and
straightway ordered the cassone to be
borne to the palace and placed in his
chamber.

Genese, being yet over-young to wive,
found his chief pleasure in going every
day to the chase. Now that the cassone
was transported into his bedroom, with
the maiden Doralice hidden inside, she
heard, as was only natural, all that went
on in the king's chamber, and, in pon-
dering over her past misfortunes, hoped
that a happier future was in store for her.
And as soon as the king had departed
for the chase in the morning, and had
left the room clear, Doralice would issue
from the clothes-chest, and would deftly
put the chamber in order, and sweep it,
and make the bed. Then she would

THE FOURTH FABLE. 89

adjust the bed-curtains, and put on the
coverlet cunningly embroidered with fine
pearls, and two beautifully ornamented
pillows thereto. After this, the fair
maiden strewed the bed with roses, vio-
lets, and other sweet-smelling flowers,
mingled with Cyprian spices which ex-
haled a subtle odour and soothed the
brain to slumber. Day after day Dora-
lice continued to compose the king's
chamber in this pleasant fashion, without
being seen of anyone, and thereby gave
Genese much gratification ; for every day
when he came back from the chase it
seemed to him as if he was greeted by
all the perfumes of the East. One day
he questioned the queen his mother, and
the ladies who were about her, as to
which of them had so kindly and gra-
ciously adorned his room, and decked the
bed with roses and violets and sweet
scents. They answered, one and all,
that they had no part in all this, for every
morning, when they went to put the
chamber in order, they found the bed
strewn with flowers and perfumes.

90 NIGHT THE FIRST.

Genese, when he heard this, deter-
mined to clear up the mystery, and the
next morning gave out that he was going
to hunt at a village ten leagues distant ;
but, in lieu of going forth, he quietly
hid himself in the room, keeping his
eyes steadily fixed on the door, and
waiting to see what might occur. He
had not been long on the watch before
Doralice, looking more beautiful than
the sun, came out of the cassone and be-
gan to sweep the room, and to straighten
the carpets, and to deck the bed, and
diligently to set everything in order, as
was her wont. The beautiful maiden
had no sooner done her kindly and con-
siderate office, than she made as if she
would go back to her hiding-place ; but
the king, wiio had keenly taken note of
everything, suddenly caught her by the
hand, and, seeing that she was very fair,
and fresh as a lily, asked her who she
was ; whereupon the trembling girl con-
fessed that she was the daughter of a
prince. She declared, however, that she

Princess Doralice Hiding In The
King's Chest

FOURTH FABLE

THE FOURTH FABLE. 91

had forgotten what was his name, on ac-
count of her long imprisonment in the
cassone, and she would say nothing as
to the reason why she had been shut
therein. The king, after he had heard
her story, fell violently in love with
her, and, with the full consent of his
mother, made her his queen, and had
by her two fair children.

In the meantime Tebaldo was still
mastered by his wicked and treacherous
passion, and, as he could find no trace
of Doralice, search as he would, he began
to believe that she must have been hid-
den in the coffer which he had caused
to be sold, and that, having escaped his
power, she might be wandering about
from place to place. Therefore, with
his rage still burning against her, he
set himself to try whether perchance
he might not discover her whereabouts.
He attired himself as a merchant, and,
having gathered together a great store
of precious stones and jewels, marvel-
lously wrought in gold, quitted Salerno

92 NIGHT THE FIRST.

unknown to anyone, and scoured all the
nations and countries round about, fi-
nally meeting by hazard the trader who
had originally purchased the clothes-
chest. Of him he demanded whether
he had been satisfied with his bargain,
and into whose hands the chest had fal-
len, and the trader replied that he had
sold the cassone to the King of England
for double the price he had given for it.
Tebaldo, rejoicing at this news, made
his way to England, and when he had
landed there and journeyed to the capi-
tal, he made a show of his jewels and
golden ornaments, amongst which were
some spindles and distaffs cunningly
wrought, crying out the while, 'Spin-
dles and distaffs for sale, ladies.' It
chanced that one of the dames of the
court, who was looking out of a win-
dow, heard this, and saw the merchant
and his goods ; whereupon she ran to
the queen and told her there was below
a merchant who had for sale the most
beautiful golden spindles and distaffs

THE FOURTH FABLE. 93

that ever were seen. The queen com-
manded him to be brought into the
palace, and he came up the stairs into
her presence, but she did not recognize
him in his merchant's guise; moreover,
she was not thinking ever to behold her
father again ; but Tebaldo recognized
his daughter at once.

The queen, when she saw how fair
was the work of the spindles and dis-
taffs, asked of the merchant what price
he put upon them. 'The price is great,'
he answered, ( but to you I will give one
of them for nothing, provided you suf-
fer me to gratify a caprice of mine.
This is that I may be permitted to
sleep one night in the same room as
your children.' The good Doralice, in
her pure and simple nature, never sus-
pected the accursed design of the feigned
merchant, and, yielding to the persua-
sion of her attendants, granted his re-
quest.

But before the merchant was led to
the sleeping chamber, certain ladies of

94 NIGHT THE FIRST.

the court deemed it wise to offer him
a cup of wine well drugged to make
him sleep sound, and when night had
come and the merchant seemed over-
come with fatigue, one of the ladies
conducted him into the chamber of
the king's children, where there was
prepared for him a sumptuous couch.
Before she left him the lady said, c Good
man, are you not thirsty ? ' * Indeed I
am/ he replied; whereupon she handed
him the drugged wine in a silver cup ;
but the crafty Tebaldo, while feigning
to drink the wine, spilled it over his
garments, and then lay down to rest.
Now there was in the children's room
a side door through which it was possi-
ble to pass into the queen's apartment.
At midnight, when all was still, Tebaldo
stole through this, and, going up to the
bed beside which the queen had left her
clothes, he took away a small dagger,
which he had marked the day before
hanging from her girdle. Then he re-
turned to the children's room and killed

THE FOURTH FABLE. 95

them both with the dagger, which he
immediately put back into its scabbard,
all bloody as it was, and having opened
a window he let himself down by a cord.
As soon as the shopmen of the city were
astir, he went to a barber's and had his
long beard taken off, for fear he might
be recognized, and having put on dif-
ferent clothes he walked about the city
without apprehension.

In the palace the nurses went, as soon
as they awakened, to suckle the chil-
dren; but when they came to the cra-
dles they found them both lying dead.
Whereupon they began to scream and
to weep bitterly, and to rend their hair
and their garments, thus laying bare their
breasts. The dreadful tidings came
quickly to the ears of the king and queen,
and they ran barefooted and in their
night-clothes to the spot, and when they
saw the dead bodies of the babes they
wept bitterly. Soon the report of the
murder of the two children was spread
throughout the city, and, almost at the

9« NIGHT THE FIRST.

same time, it was rumoured that there
had just arrived a famous astrologer,
who, by studying the courses of the va-
rious stars, could lay bare the hidden
mysteries of the past. When this came
to the ears of the king, he caused the
astrologer to be summoned forthwith,
and, when he was come into the royal
presence, demanded whether or not he
could tell the name of the murderer
of the children. The astrologer replied
that he could, and whispering secretly
in the king's ear he said, c Sire, let all
the men and women of your court who
are wont to wear a dagger at their side be
summoned before you, and if amongst
these you shall find one whose dagger is
befouled with blood in its scabbard, that
same will be the murderer of your chil-
dren.'

Wherefore the king at once gave com-
mand that all his courtiers should present
themselves, and, when they were assem-
bled, he diligently searched with his own
hands to see if any one of them might

THE FOURTH FABLE. 97

have a bloody dagger at his side, but he
could find none. Then he returned to
the astrologer — who was no other than
Tebaldo himself — and told him how his
quest had been vain, and that all in the
palace, save his mother and the queen,
had been searched. To which the as-
trologer replied, ' Sire, search everywhere
and respect no one, and then you will
surely find the murderer.' So the king
searched first his mother, and then the
queen, and when he took the dagger
which Doralice wore and drew it from
the scabbard, he found it covered with
blood. Then the king, convinced by
this proof, turned to the queen and said
to her, l O, wicked and inhuman woman,
enemy of your own flesh and blood,
traitress to your own children ! what des-
perate madness has led you to dye your
hands in the blood of these babes? I
swear that you shall suffer the full pen-
alty fixed for such a crime.' But though
the king in his rage would fain have sent
her straightway to a shameful death, his

98 NIGHT THE FIRST.

desire for vengeance prompted him to
dispose of her so that she might suffer
longer and more cruel torment. Where-
fore he commanded that she should be
stripped and thus naked buried up to
her chin in the earth, and that she should
be well fed in order that she might linger
long and the worms devour her flesh
while she still lived. The queen, sea-
soned to misfortune in the past, and con-
scious of her innocence, contemplated
her terrible doom with calmness and
dignity.

Tebaldo, when he learned that the
queen had been adjudged guilty and con-
demned to a cruel death, rejoiced greatly,
and, as soon as he had taken leave of
the king, left England, quite satisfied
with his work, and returned secretly to
Salerno. Arrived there he told to the
old nurse the whole story of his adven-
tures, and how Doralice had been sen-
tenced to death by her husband. As
she listened the nurse feigned to be as
pleased as Tebaldo himself, but in her

THE FOURTH FABLE. 99

heart she grieved sorely, overcome by
the love which she had always borne
towards the princess, and the next morn-
ing she took horse early and rode on
day and night until she came to Eng-
land. Immediately she repaired to the
palace and went before the king, who
was giving public audience in the great
hall, and, having thrown herself at his
feet, she demanded an interview on a
matter which concerned the honour of
his crown. The king granted her re-
quest, and took her by the hand and
bade her rise ; then, when the rest of the
company had gone and left them alone,
the nurse thus addressed the king : ' Sire,
know that Doralice, your wife, is my
child. She is not, indeed, the fruit of
my womb, but I nourished her at these
breasts. She is innocent of the deed
which is laid to her charge, and for which
she is sentenced to a lingering and cruel
death. And you, when you shall have
learnt everything, and laid your hands
upon the impious murderer, and under-

100 NIGHT THE FIRST.

stood the reason which moved him to
slay your children, you will assuredly
show her mercy and deliver her from
these bitter and cruel torments. And if
you find that I speak falsely in this, I
offer myself to suffer the same punish-
ment which the wretched Doralice is
now enduring.'

Then the nurse set forth fully from
beginning to end the whole history of
Doralice's past life ; and the king when
he heard it doubted not the truth of it,
but forthwith gave orders that the queen,
who was now more dead than alive, should
be taken out of the earth ; which was
done at once, and Doralice, after careful
nursing and ministration by physicians,
was restored to health.

Next King Genese stirred up through
all his kingdom mighty preparations for
war, and gathered together a great army,
which he despatched to Salerno. After
a short campaign the city was captured,
and Tebaldo, bound hand and foot, taken
back to England, where King Genese,

THE FOURTH FABLE. IOI

wishing to know the whole sum of his
guilt, had him put upon the rack, where-
upon the wretched man made full con-
fession. The next day he was conducted
through the city in a cart drawn by four
horses, and then tortured with red-hot
pincers like Gano di Magazza, and after
his body had been quartered his flesh
was thrown to be eaten of ravenous
doers.

o

And this was the end of the impious
wretch Tebaldo ; and King Genese and
Doralice his queen lived many years
happily together, leaving at their death
divers children in their place.

All the listeners were both amazed and
moved to pity by this pathetic story, and
when it was finished Eritrea, without
waiting for the Signora's word, gave her
enigma :

I tell you of a heart so vile,

So cruel, and so full of guile,

That with its helpless progeny

It deals as with an enemy.

And when it sees them plump and sleek,

102 NIGHT THE FIRST.

It stabs them with its cruel beak.

For, lean itself, with malice fell,

It fain would make them lean as well.

So they grow thin with wasting pain,

Till nought but plumes and bones remain.

The ladies and gentlemen gave various
solutions to this enigma, one guessing
this and another that, but they found it
hard to believe there could be an animal
so vile and cruel as thus barbarously to
maltreat its own progeny, but at last the
fair Eritrea said with a smile, "What cause
is there for your wonder? Assuredly
there are parents who hate their children
as virulently as the rapacious kite hates
its young. This bird, being by nature
thin and meagre, when it sees its progeny
fat and seemly — as young birds mostly
are — stabs their tender flesh with its
hard beak, until they too become lean
like itself."

This solution of Eritrea's pointed
enigma pleased everybody, and it won
the applause of all. Eritrea, having
made due salutation to the Signora, re-

THE FIFTH FABLE. 103

sumed her seat. Then the latter made
a sign to Arianna to follow in her turn,
and she rising from her chair began her
fable as follows.

THE FIFTH FABLE.

Bimitrto tfje djapman, fjabing tiggm'set fjimself
as a certain ©ramottibegijto, surprises fjis
fcrife Polfsscna Suit!) a priest, ano senos fjer
tack to Jjer brothers, fofjo put fjer to teatfj,
ano Bimitrio aftertoaros marries fjis serbing^
too man.

IE often see, dear ladies, great
inequality in the degree of
mutual love. How often will
the husband love the wife en-
tirely, and she care little for him ; and,
on the other hand, the wife will love the
husband to find nothing but hatred in
return. In conditions like these is born
the passion of sudden jealousy, the de-
stroyer of all happiness, rendering a
decent life impossible ; likewise dishon-
ourings and unseemly deaths, which often
shed deep disgrace over all our sex. I will

104 NIGHT THE FIRST.

say nothing of the headlong perils, of
the numberless ills, into which both men
and women rush on account of this ac-
cursed jealousy. It would weary rather
than divert you were I to recount them
all to you one by one ; but, as it is my
task to bring to an end this evening of
pleasant discourse, I will tell you a story
of Gramottiveggio, now told for the first
time, and I believe you will gather there-
from no less pleasure than edification.

The noble city of Venice, famed for
the integrity of its magistrates, for the
justice of its laws, and as being the re-
sort of men from every nation of the
world, is seated on the bosom of the
Adriatic sea, and is named the queen of
cities, the refuge of the unhappy, the
asylum of the oppressed. Her walls
are the sea and her roof the sky ; and,
though the earth produces nought, there
is no scarcity of anything that life in ?.
great city demands.

In this rich and magnificent city there
lived in former days a merchant whose

THE FIFTH FABLE. 1 05

name was Dimitrio, a good and trust-
worthy man of upright life, though of
low degree. He was possessed with a
great desire of offspring, wherefore he
took to wife a fair and graceful girl
named Polissena, whom he loved as
dearly as ever man loved woman, letting
her clothe herself so sumptuously that
there was no dame in all the city — save
amongst the nobles — who could outvie
her in raiment, or in rings, or in pearls
of price. And besides he took care to
let her have abundance of delicate vic-r
tuals, which, not being suitable to one
of her humble degree, gave her the Icok
of being more pampered and dainty than
she should have been.

It chanced one day that Dimitrio,
who on account of his business was often
constrained to travel by sea, determined
to take ship with a cargo of goods for
Cyprus, and, when he had got ready his
apparel and stocked the house with pro-
visions and everything that was needful,
he left his dear wife Polissena with a

IO6 NIGHT THE FIRST.

fair and buxom serving-maid to bear her
company, and set sail on his voyage.

After his departure Polissena went on
living luxuriously and indulged herself
with every delicacy, and before very long
found she was unable to endure further
th^ pricks of amorous appetite, so she
cast her eyes upon the parish priest and
became hotly enamoured of him. The
priest on his part, being young, lively,
and well-favoured, came at last to divine
the meaning of the glances Polissena
cast towards him out of the corner of
her eye ; and, seeing that she was gifted
with a lovely face and a graceful shape,
and further endowed with all the charms
men desire in a woman, he soon began
to return her amorous looks. Thus
love grew up between them, and many
days had not passed before Polissena
brought the young man privily into the
house to take her pleasure with him.
And thus, for the course of many months,
they secretly enjoyed the delights of
love in close embraces and sweet kisses,

THE FIFTH FABLE. IO/

letting the poor husband fare the best
he might in the perils of sea and land.

Now when Dimitrio had been some
time in Cyprus, and had made there a
reasonable profit on his goods, he sailed
back to Venice ; and, having disem-
barked, he went to his home and to his
dear Polissena, who, as soon as she saw
him, burst into tears, and when Dimi-
trio asked her the reason of her weep-
ing, she replied, { I weep because of some
bad news which came to me of late, and
also for the great joy I feel in seeing
you again ; for I heard tell by many
that all the ships which had sailed cor
Cyprus were wrecked, and I feared sorely
lest some terrible misadventure should
have overtaken you. But now, seeing
you have by God's mercy returned safe
and sound, I cannot keep back my tears
for the joy I feel.' The simple Dimi-
trio, who had returned to Venice to make
up — as he thought — to his wife for the
solitary time she had passed during his
long absence, deemed that the tears and

108 NIGHT THE FIRST.

sighs of Polissena sprang from her warm
and constant love for him ; but the poor
dupe never suspected that all the while
she was saying in her heart, ( Would to
Heaven that he had been drowned at
sea ! for then I might the more safely
and readily take my pleasure with my
lover who loves me so well.'

Before a month had passed Dimitrio
was forced to set on his travels once
more, whereat Polissena was filled with
joy greater than can be imagined, and
forewith sent word to her lover, who
showed himself to be no less on the
alert ; and, when the settled hour for
their foregathering had come, he went
secretly to her. But the comings and
goings of the priest could not be kept
secret enough to escape for long the eye
of a certain Manusso, a friend of Dimi-
trio, who lived just opposite. Where-
fore Manusso, who held Dimitrio in
high esteem for that he was a pleasant
companion and one ever ready to do a
friendly service, grew mightily suspicious

THE FIFTH F4BLE. IOO,

of his young neighbour, and kept a
sharp watch over her. When he had
satisfied himself that, with a given sign
at a certain hour, the door would always
be opened to the priest, and that after
this the lovers would disport themselves
with less circumspection than prudence
demanded, he determined that the busi-
ness, which was as yet a secret, should
not be brought to light so as to stir up
a scandal, but to let his project have
time to ripen by awaiting the return of
Dimitrio.

When Dimitrio found himself at lib-
erty to return home, he took ship, and
with a favourable breeze sailed back to
Venice ! and, having disembarked, went
straight to his own house and knocked
at the door, thus arousing the servant,
who, when she had looked out of the
window and recognized her master, ran
quickly to let him in, weeping with joy
the while. Polissena, when she heard
her husband had returned, came down-
stairs forthwith, taking him in her arms

HO NIGHT THE FIRST.

and embracing and kissing him as if she
had been the most loving wife in the
world. And because he was weary and
altogether worn out by the sea voyage,
he went to bed without taking any food,
and slept so soundly that the morning
came before he had taken any amorous
pleasure with his wife. When the night
had passed and full daylight had come,
Dimitrio awoke, and, having left the bed
without bestowing so much as a single
kiss upon his wife, took a little box,
out of which he drew a few ornamental
trinkets of no small value, which, on re-
turning to bed, he gave to his wife, who
set little store by them, seeing that her
thoughts were running upon another
matter. Shortly after this it happened
that Dimitrio had occasion to go into
Apulia to purchase oil and other mer-
chandise, and, having announced this to
his wife, he began to make ready for his
journey. She, cunning and full of mis-
chief, and feigning to be heartbroken at
his departure, kissed him lovingly and

THE FIFTH FABLE. 1 1 1

besought him to tarry yet a few days
longer with her ; but in her heart of
hearts she reckoned one day of his
presence like a thousand, since it pre-
vented her from taking her pleasure in
the arms of her lover.

Now Manusso, who had often espied
the priest courting Polissena and doing
divers other things which it is not seemly
to mention, felt that he would be work-
ing his friend a wrong if he should not
now let him know all that he had seen.
Therefore he determined, come what
might, to tell him all. So, having in-
vited him one day to dinner, he said to
him as they sat at table, * Dimitrio, my
friend, you know, if I am not mistaken,
that I have always held, and shall ever
hold you in great affection, so long as
there is breath in my body ; nor could
you name any task, however difficult,
which I would not undertake for the
love I bear you ; and, if you would not
take it ill, I could tell you of certain
matters which might annoy you rather

I 1 2 NIGHT THE FIRST.

than please you, but I fear to speak lest
thereby I should disturb your peace of
mind. Nevertheless, if you will take it
— as I hope you will — circumspectly
and prudently, you will not let your
anger get the mastery over you, and
thus blind your eyes to the truth.'
( Know you not,' answered Dimitrio,
' that you may say to me anything you
please ? If you have, by any mischance,
killed a man, tell me, and do not doubt
my fidelity.' Manusso answered, * I
have killed nobody, but I have seen
another man slay your honour and your
good name.' c Speak your meaning
clearly,' said Dimitrio, f and do not beat
about the bush with ambiguous words.'
f Do you wish me to tell it you
briefly ? ' asked Manusso ; ( then listen
and hear patiently what I have to say.
Polissena your wife, whom you hold so
dear, all the time you are away sleeps
every night with a priest and takes her
pleasure with him.' f How can this be
possible,' said Dimitrio, * seeing that she

THE FIFTH FABLE. 1 1 3

loves me so tenderly, never failing when
I leave her to shed floods of tears on
my bosom and to fill the air with her
sighs ? If I were to behold this thing
with my own eyes I would not believe
it.' t If you are wise, as I believe you
to be,' said Manusso, c if there is any
reason in you, you will not shut your
eyes, as is the way with so many sim-
pletons and fools. I will let you see
with your eyes and touch with your
hands all that I have told you ; then
you may be convinced.' c Then,' said
Dimitrio, c I shall be content to do what-
ever you may direct me in order to let
you show me all you have promised.'
Then Manusso replied, < But you must
take care to keep your secret and put a
good face on the matter, otherwise you
will wreck the whole plot.1 When next
you have to go abroad, make believe to
set sail, but in lieu of quitting Venice
come to my lodgings as secretly as you
can, and I will clear up the mystery for
you.'

1 Orig., altrimcnti si guasterebbe la coda al fasiano.

H4 NIGHT THE FIRST.

When the day came for Dimitrio to
start on his journey he embraced his
wife tenderly, while he bade her take
good care of the house, and having
taken leave of her feigned to go on
board his ship, but turned and withdrew
secretly to the lodging of Manusso.
By chance it happened that, before two
o'clock had struck, a terrible storm came
on, with rain so heavy that it seemed as
if the heavens themselves were broken
up, and the rain ceased not all through
the night. The priest, who had already
been advertised of the departure of Di-
mitrio, and cared neither for wind nor
rain, was waiting for the hour of assig-
nation. When he gave the sign the door
was opened to him, and, as soon as he
was inside, Polissena greeted him with
sweet and passionate kisses ; while the
husband, who was concealed in a passage
over the way, saw all that went on, and,
being no longer able to contradict his
friend's assertion, was altogether over-
whelmed, and burst into tears on account

THE FIFTH F4BLE. 1 1 5

of the rignteous grief which possessed
him. Then said his friend to him, ' Now
what do you think ? Have you not
seen something you would never have
believed ? But say not a word and keep
yourself cool, for if you listen to what
I have to say, and do exactly what I
shall direct you, you shall see something
more. Take off the clothes you are now
wearing, and put on some beggar's rags,
and smear your face and your hands with
dirt ; then go over to your own house
as a beggar, and in a counterfeited voice
ask for a night's lodging. Most likely
the servant, seeing how bad a night it
is, will take pity on you and take you
in ; and if you do this, you will prob-
ably see something else you would rather
not see.'

Dimitrio, having listened to his friend's
counsel, took off his clothes and put on
instead the rags of a poor man who had
come to the house and asked for lodging
in God's name, and, although it still
rained smartly, he went over to the door

Il6 NIGHT THE FIRST.

of his own house, at which he knocked
thrice, weeping and groaning bitterly the
while. The serving-maid having opened
the window, cried out who was there,
and Dimitrio, in a broken and feigned
voice, replied that it was a poor old man,
almost drowned by the rain, who begged
a night's lodging. Whereupon the kindly
girl, who was just as tender-hearted
towards the poor and wretched as was
her mistress towards the priest, ran to
Polissena and begged her to grant the pe-
tition of this poor man who was soaked
with rain, and to give him shelter till he
should be warm and dry. t He can draw
us some water,' she went on, t and make
up the fire, so that the fowls may be the
sooner roasted. Then I can prepare the
soup, and get ready the spoons, and do
other chores about the kitchen.' To
this the mistress agreed, and the girl,
having opened the door, let him in and
bade him sit by the fire and turn the
spit. It happened that the priest and
Polissena, who had in the meantime been

THE FIFTH FABLE 1 1/

in the chamber, came down into the
kitchen holding one another by the hand,
and at once began to make mock of the
poor wight with his dirty face. Going
up to him Polissena asked what was his
name. * I am called Gramottiveggio,
signora,' he replied; and Polissena when
she heard this began to laugh heartily,
showing all her teeth so plainly that a
leech might have drawn any one of them.
Then she threw her arms round the
priest, crying out, f Come, dear heart, and
let me kiss you.' And poor Dimitrio
had to look on while they thus kissed
and embraced each other. I leave you
to fancy what he felt at seeing his wife
kissed and fondled by a priest in his very
presence.

When the time had come for supper,
the servant, when the lovers had sat
down, returned to the kitchen and said
to the poor man : ' Well now, father, I
must just tell you that my mistress has
for a husband as good a man as you would
find in all Venice, one who lets her want

Il8 NIGHT THE FIRST.

for nothing, and God only knows where
the poor man is in this dreadful weather,
while she, an ungrateful hussy, caring
nothing for his person and less for his
honour, has let herself be blinded by
this lecherous passion — always fondling
this lover, and shutting the door to every-
body but him alone. But, I pray you,
let us go softly to the door of the cham-
ber ; then you will see what they are do-
ing, and how they bear themselves at
table.' And when they came to the door
they espied the two lovers within, mak-
ing good play with the viands, and carry-
ing on all sort of amorous dalliance the
while.

When the hour of bedtime came, the
two lovers retired to rest, and, after a
little playful pastime, began to sport in
good earnest,1 and made so much ado
that the poor Dimitrio, who was abed in
a chamber adjoining, did not close his
eyes all night, and understood completely
what was going on. As soon as morn-

1 Orig., cominciorono macinare a raccolta.

THE FIFTH FABLE.

ing came he repaired to the lodgings of
Manusso, who, as soon as he saw him,
said, laughing, ' Well, friend, how is the
business going on ? Is all you have seen
to your taste ? ' ' No, indeed,' answered
Dimitrio ; * I would never have believed
it had I not seen it with my own eyes;
but, patience ! since my ill luck will have
it so.' Then Manusso, who was a crafty
fellow, said, * My friend, I would have
you do what I shall tell you. Wash your-
self well and put on your own clothes, and
go straightway to your house, and make
believe that by great good luck you had
not embarked before the storm broke.
Take good care that the priest steal not
away ; for, as soon as your enter, he will
assuredly hide himself somewhere, and
will lie there till he can make his retreat
safely. Meantime, summon all your
wife's relations to a banquet at your
house, and then, when you have dragged
the priest from his hiding-place in their
presence, you can do anything else which
may seem good to you.'

120 NIGHT THE FIRST.

Dimitno was highly pleased at his
friend's advice, and as soon as he had
stripped himself of his ragged clothes
went over to his house and knocked at
the door. The servant, when she saw it
was her master, ran forthwith to Polis-
sena, who was yet in bed with the priest,
and said to her, f Signora, my master is
come back.' Her mistress, when she
heard these words, was beside herself
with fright, and, getting up with what
despatch she could, she hid the priest,
who was in his shirt, in the coffer where
she kept all her choicest raiment, and
then ran in her fur-lined cloak, all shoe-
less as she was, to open the door to Di-
mitrio. ' My dear husband,' she cried,
* you are indeed welcome. I have not
closed my eyes for love of you, wonder-
ing always how fortune might be using
you, but God be praised for that you
have come back safe and sound.' Di-
mitrio, as soon as he entered the cham-
ber, said, ' Polissena, my love, I scarcely
slept a wink last night on account of the

THE FIFTH FABLE. 1 2 1

bad weather, so that now I would fain
rest a little ; and in the meanwhile let
the servant go to your brothers' house
and bid them dine with us to-day.' To
this Polissena replied, ' Would it not be
better to wait till another day, seeing
that it rains so heavily, and the girl is
busy calendering our body linen and
sheets and other napery ? ' * To-morrow
the weather will mend, and I shall have
to set forth,' said Dimitrio. Polissena
then said, ' But you might go yourself;
or, if you are too weary, go ask your
friend Manusso to do you this service.'
' That is a good suggestion,' said Dimi-
trio, and, having sent for his friend, he
carried the affair out exactly as it had
been settled.

The brothers of Polissena came, and
they dined jovially together. When
the table was cleared, Dimitrio cried:
'Good brothers-in-law of mine, I have
never properly let you see my house,
nor the fine apparel which I have given
to Polissena, my wife and your sister,

122 NIGHT THE FIRST.

so that you might judge therefrom how
I treat her. Now go, Polissena, my
good wife, get up and show your broth-
ers over the house.' Dimitrio then rose
and showed them his storehouses full
of wheat and timber and oil and other
merchandise, then casks of malvoisie
and Greek wine and other delicacies.
Next he said to his wife : f Bring out
the rings and the pearls which I have
bought for you. Just look at these
fine emeralds in this little casket; the
diamonds, the rubies, and other rings
of price. Does it seem to you, my
brothers, that your sister is well treated
by me ? ' ' We knew all this well,
brother,' they replied, 'and if we had
not been satisfied with your worth, we
would not have given you our sister
to wife.'

But Dimitrio had not yet finished,
for he next directed his wife to open
all her coffers, and to bring out her
fair raiment; but Polissena, her heart
sinking with dread, replied, c What need

THE FIFTH FABLE. 123

can there be to open the coffers and
show my clothes ? Do not my broth-
ers know well enough that you always
let me be attired full honourably — more
sumptuously indeed than our station
calls for ? ' But Dimitrio cried out,
4 Open this coffer, and that, at once,'
and when they were opened he went
on showing all her wardrobe to her
brothers.

Now when they came to the last
coffer the key of this was nowhere to
be found, for the good reason that
the priest was hidden therein. Dimi-
trio, when he saw the key was not
forthcoming, took up a hammer and
beat the lock so lustily that it gave
way, and then he opened the coffer.

The priest, shaking with fear, could
in no way hide himself, or escape being
recognized by all the bystanders. The
brothers of Polissena, when they saw
how the matter stood, were so strongly
moved by anger that they were within
a little of slaying her and her lover as

124 NIGHT THE FIRST.

well on the spot with the daggers they
wore, but the husband was averse to
this course, deeming it shameful to kill
a man in his shirt, however stout a fel-
low he might be. He spake to the
brothers thus: cWhat think ye now of
this trull of a wife of mine ? ' Then,
turning to Polissena, he said : ' Have
I deserved such a return as this from
you ? Wretched woman ! who has any
right to keep me back from cutting
your throat?' The poor wretch, who
could in no wise excuse herself, was
silent, because her husband told her
to her face all he had seen of her do-
ings the night before so clearly that
she could not find a word to say in her
defence. Then, turning to the priest,
who stood with his head bent down,
he said : ' Take your clothes and go
quickly from this place, and bad luck
go with you. Let me never see your
face again, for I have no wish to soil
my hands in your accursed blood for
the sake of a guilty woman. Now be-

THE FIFTH FABLE. 125

gone; why do you tarry?' The priest,
without opening his mouth, stole away,
fancying as he went that Dimitrio and
his brothers-in-law were close behind
him with their knives. Then, Dimi-
trio, turning to his brothers-in-law, said :
' Take your sister where you will, for I
will not have her before my eyes any
longer.' And the brothers, inflamed
with rage, took her out of the house
and slew her forthwith. When news
of this was brought to Dimitrio, he cast
his eyes on the serving-maid, who was
indeed a very comely lass, and he bore
in mind, moreover, the kind turn she
had done him. So he made her his
wife. He gave her, likewise, all the
jewels and raiment of his first wife,
and lived many years with her in joy
and peace.

As soon as Arianna had brought her
story to an end, the company with one
voice cried out that the worth and the
constancy of the unlucky Dimitrio was;
most noteworthy, even when he saw

1 26 NIGHT THE FIRST.

before his very eyes the priest who had
wrought him this dishonour, and quite
as noteworthy was the terror of the cul-
prit, who, clad only in his shirt, and see-
ing the husband and brothers of his
mistress close upon him, trembled like
a leaf shaken by the wind. And then
the Signora, perceiving that discussion
on the matter promised to be over-
much, called for silence, and directed
Arianna to give her enigma, whereupon
she, with her gracious manner and pleas-
ant smile, set it forth in these words :

Three jolly friends sat down to eat,
A merrier crew you could not meet.
They tried and emptied every dish,
For better fare they could not wish.
The varlet next before them placed
A dish with three fat pigeons graced.
Each ate his pigeon, bones and all,
But pigeons twain were left withal.

This enigma seemed to the company
to be one very difficult to solve, and
finally it was judged to be impossible,

THE FIFTH FABLE.

for no one saw how, after each had eaten
his pigeon, two out of the three could
remain on the board, but they did not
look for the snake which was hidden in
the grass. When, therefore, Arianna
saw [that the secret of her enigma had
not been grasped, and that the solution
was impossible, she turned her fair and
delicate face towards the Signora and
said : "It seems, dear lady, that my
enigma is not to be solved, and yet it
is not so difficult but that it may be
easily disentangled. The answer is this :
Out of the three jolly friends one bore
the name of Each. As they sat to-
gether at the same table they ate as
if they had been famished wolves, and
when, at the end of the feast, the varlet
brought them three roast pigeons, two
out of the three revellers were so full
that they could eat no more, but the
one whose name was Each finished his
neatly, so there were two pigeons left
when they rose from the table."

The solution of this obscure riddle

128 NIGHT THE FIRST.

was greeted with great laughter and ap-
plause, for not one of the company could
have solved it. Thus, the last story of
this present night having been told, the
Signora directed everyone to go home to
rest. And by the flare of torches, which
shed over all the place a white light, the
ladies and gentlemen were escorted to
the landing-place.

lEnfc of tfje Jirat

tbe Second

1FU$bt tbe Second

IHCEBUS had already plunged
his golden wheels into the salt
waves of the Indian ocean,
his rays no longer gave light
to the world, his horned sister now ruled
the universe with her mild beams, and
the sparkling stars had spread their fires
thickly over the sky, when the courtly
and honourable company met once more
at the accustomed spot. And when they
had seated themselves according to their
rank, the Signora Lucretia gave the word
that they should observe, this night, the
same order in their entertainment as
hitherto. And, seeing that five of the
damsels had not told their stories, the Sig-
nora bade the Trevisan to write the names
of these on paper, then to place the bil-
lets in a golden vase, and to draw them

132 NIGHT THE SECOND.

out one after another, as they had done
last night. The Trevisan hastened to
obey her command, and the first paper
which was taken out of the vase bore the
name of Isabella, the second that of Fi-
ordiana, the third that of Lionora, the
fourth that of Lodovica, and the fifth
that of Vicenza. Then the flutes struck
up a tune, and they all began to sing and
dance in a circle, Antonio Molino and
Lionora leading the revel ; and they all
laughed so loud and heartily, that me-
seems the sound of their merriment is
still to be heard. And when the meas-
ure had come to an end they all sat down,
and the damsels sang a fair carol in praise
of the Signora.

SONG.

What once we sang we sing to-day,

And ever will we tune our lay,

To praise thee, lady, as the queen

Of beauty, and of all our bene ;

The loftiest theme the poet sings,

The sweetest chord that shakes the strings,

The fairest shape the painter gives,

The peer of all in thee survives.

THE FIRST FABLE. 133

He who never owns the spell

Which moves us now thy praise to tell.

Wins no kindly word from me.

He the bliss shall never see

That flows on earth from faithful love.

And waits on spirits blest above.

At the close of this pleasant song Isa-
bella, who had been chosen to begin the
entertainment of the second night, began
to tell the story which follows.

THE FIRST FABLE.

(Saleotto, Sing of Snglia, fjas a eon fojho fa born
in tfje gfjape of a pig. 8Tfjis son marries three
bribes, ant in the eno, fjabing tfjrabm off fjis
semblance, becomes a fjanosome gout!).

jAIR ladies, if man were to spend
a thousand years in rendering
thanks to his Creator for hav-
ing made him in the form of a
human and not of a brute beast, he could
not speak gratitude enough. This re-
flection calls to mind the story of one
who was born as a pig, but afterwards

134 NIGHT THE SECOND.

became a comely youth. Nevertheless,
to his dying day he was known to the
people over whom he ruled as King Pig.

You must know, dear ladies, that Ga-
leotto, King of Anglia, was a man highly
blest in worldly riches, and in his wife
Ersilia, the daughter of Matthias, King
of Hungary, a princess who, in virtue
and beauty, outshone all the other ladies
of the time. And Galeotto was a wise
king, ruling his land so that no man could
hear complaint against him. Though
they had been several years married they
had no child, wherefore they both of
them were much aggrieved. While Er-
silia was walking one day in her garden
she felt suddenly weary, and remarking
hard by a spot covered with fresh green
turf, she went up to it and sat down
thereon, and, overcome with weariness
and soothed by the sweet singing of the
birds in the green foliage, she fell asleep.

And it chanced that while she slept
there passed by three fairies who held
mankind somewhat in scorn, and these,

THE FIRST FABLE. 135

when they beheld the sleeping queen,
halted, and gazing upon her beauty, took
counsel together how they might protect
her and throw a spell upon her. When
they were agreed the first cried out, c I
will that no man shall be able to harm
her, and that, the next time she lie with
her husband, she may be with child and
bear a son who shall not have his equal
in all the world for beauty.' Then said
the second, * I will that no one shall ever
have power to offend her, and that the
prince who shall be born of her shall be
gifted with every virtue under the sun.'
And the third said, f And I will that she
shall be the wisest among women, but
that the son whom she shall conceive
shall be born in the skin of a pig, with a
pig's ways and manners, and in this state
he shall be constrained to abide till he
shall have three times taken a woman to
wife.'

As soon as the three fairies had flown
away Ersilia awoke, and straightway
arose and went back to the palace, taking

I36 NIGH T THE SECOND.

with her the flowers she had plucked.
Not many days had passed before she
knew herself to be with child, and when
the time of her delivery was come, she
gave birth to a son with members like
those of a pig and not of a human being.
When tidings of this prodigy came to
the ears of the king and queen they la-
mented sore thereanent, and the king,
bearing in mind how good and wise his
queen was, often felt moved to put this
offspring of hers to death and cast it
into the sea, in order that she might be
spared the shame of having given birth
to him. But when he debated in his
mind and considered that this son, let
him be what he might, was of his own
begetting, he put aside the cruel purpose
which he had been harbouring, and,
seized with pity and grief, he made up
his mind that the son should be brought
up and nurtured like a rational being
and not as a brute beast. The child,
therefore, being nursed with the greatest
care, would often be brought to the

THE FIRST FABLE. 137

queen and put his little snout and his
little paws in his mother's lap, and she,
moved by natural affection, would caress
him by stroking his bristly back with her
hand, and embracing and kissing him as
if he had been of human form. Then
he would wag his tail and give other
signs to show that he was conscious of
his mother's affection.

The pigling, when he grew older, be-
gan to talk like a human being, and to
wander abroad in the city, but whenever
he came near to any mud or dirt he would
always wallow therein, after the manner
of pigs, and return all covered with filth.
Then, when he approached the king and
queen, he would rub his sides against
their fair garments, defiling them with
all manner of dirt, but because he was
indeed their own son they bore it all.

One day he came home covered with
mud and filth, as was his wont, and lay
down on his mother's rich robe, and said
in a grunting tone, * Mother, I wish to
get married.' When the queen heard

1 38 NIGHT THE SECOND.

this, she replied, c Do not talk so fool-
ishly. What maid would ever take you
for a husband, and think you that any
noble or knight would give his daughter
to one so dirty and ill-savoured as you ? '
But he kept on grunting that he must
have a wife of one sort or another. The
queen, not knowing how to manage him
in this matter, asked the king what they
should do in their trouble : f Our son
wishes to marry, but where shall we find
anyone who will take him as a husband ? '
Every day the pig would come back to
his mother with the same demand : ' I
must have a wife, and I will never leave
you in peace until you procure for me a
certain maiden I have seen to-day, who
pleases me greatly.'

It happened that this maiden was a
daughter of a poor woman who had
three daughters, each one of them being
very lovely. When the queen heard
this, she had brought before her the poor
woman and her eldest daughter, and said,
c Good mother, you are poor and bur-

THE FIRST FABLE. 139

dened with children. If you will agree
to what I shall say to you, you will be
rich. I have this son who is, as you see,
in form a pig, and I would fain marry
him to your eldest daughter. Do not
consider him, but think of the king and
of me, and remember that your daughter
will inherit this whole kingdom when
the king and I shall be dead.'

When the young girl listened to the
words of the queen she was greatly dis-
turbed in her mind and blushed red for
shame, and then said that on no account
would she listen to the queen's proposi-
tion ; but the poor mother besought her
so pressingly that at last she yielded.
When the pig came home one day, all
covered with dirt as usual, his mother
said to him, f My son, we have found
for you the wife you desire.' And then
she caused to be brought in the bride,
who by this time had been robed in
sumptuous regal attire, and presented
her to the pig prince. When he saw
how lovely and desirable she was he was

140 NIGHT THE SECOND.

filled with joy, and, all foul and dirty as
he was, jumped round about her, en-
deavouring by his pawing and nuzzling
to show some sign of his affection. But
she, when she found he was soiling her
beautiful dress, thrust him aside ; where-
upon the pig said to her, * Why do you
push me thus ? Have I not had these
garments made for you myself? ' Then
she answered disdainfully, ' No, neither
you nor any other of the whole kingdom
of hogs has done this thing.' And when
the time for going to bed was come the
young girl said to herself, * What am I
to do with this foul beast ? This very
night, while he lies in his first sleep, I
will kill him.' The pig prince, who was
not far off", heard these words, but said
nothing, and when the two retired to
their chamber he got into the bed, stink-
ing and dirty as he was, and defiled the
sumptuous bed with his filthy paws and
snout. He lay down by his spouse, who
was not long in falling to sleep, and then
he struck her with his sharp hoofs and

THE FIRST FABLE. 14*

drove them into her breast so that he
killed her.

The next morning the queen went to
visit her daughter-in-law, and to her great
grief found that the pig had killed her ;
and when he came back from wandering
about the city he said, in reply to the
queen's bitter reproaches, that he had
only wrought with his wife as she was
minded to deal with him, and then with-
drew in an ill humour. Not many days
had passed before the pig prince again
began to beseech the queen to allow him
to marry one of the other sisters, and
because the queen at first would not
listen to his petition he persisted in his
purpose, and threatened to ruin every-
thing in the place if he could not have
her to wife. The queen, when she heard
this, went to the king and told him every-
thing, and he made answer that perhaps
it would be wiser to kill their ill-fated
offspring before he might work some
fatal mischief in the city. But the
queen felt all the tenderness of a mother

142 NIGHT THE SECOND.

towards him, and loved him very dearly
in spite of his brutal person, and could
not endure the thought of being parted
from him ; so she summoned once more
to the palace the poor woman, together
with her second daughter, and held a
long discourse with her, begging her the
while to give her daughter in marriage.
At last the girl assented to take the pig
prince for a husband ; but her fate was
no happier than her sister's, for the bride-
groom killed her, as he had killed his
other bride, and then fled headlong from
the palace.

When he came back, dirty as usual
and smelling so foully that no one could
approach him, the king and queen cen-
sured him gravely for the outrage he
had wrought ; but again he cried out
boldly that if he had not killed her she
would have killed him. As it had hap-
pened before, the pig in a very short
time began to importune his mother
again to let him have to wife the young-
est sister, who was much more beautiful

THE FIRST FABLE. 143

than either of the others ; and when this
request of his was refused steadily, he
became more insistent than ever, and in
the end began to threaten the queen's
life in violent and bloodthirsty words,
unless he should have given to him the
young girl for his wife. The queen,
when she heard this shameful and unnat-
ural speech,was well-nigh broken-hearted
and like to go out of her mind ; but,
putting all other considerations aside,
she called for the poor woman and her
third daughter, who was named Meldina,
and thus addressed her : * Meldina, my
child, I should be greatly pleased if you
would take the pig prince for a husband ;
pay no regard to him, but to his father
and to me ; then, if you will be prudent
and bear patiently with him, you may
be the happiest woman in the world.'
To this speech Meldina answered, with
a grateful smile upon her face, that she
was quite content to do as the queen
bade her, and thanked her humbly for
deigning to choose her as a daughter-

144 NIGHT THE SECOND.

in-law ; for, seeing that she herself had
nothing in the world, it was indeed great
good fortune that she, a poor girl, should
become the daughter-in-law of a potent
sovereign. The queen, when she heard
this modest and amiable reply, could not
keep back her tears for the happiness
she felt ; but she feared all the time that
the same fate might be in store for Mel-
dina as her sisters.

When the new bride had been clothed
in rich attire and decked with jewels,
and was awaiting the bridegroom, the pig
prince came in, filthier and more muddy
than ever ; but she spread out her rich
gown and besought him to lie down by
her side. Whereupon the queen bade
her to thrust him away, but to this she
would not consent, and spoke thus to
the queen : * There are three wise say-
ings, gracious lady, which I remember
to have heard. The first is that it is
folly to waste time in searching for that
which cannot be found. The second is
that we should believe nothing we may

THE FIRST FABLE. 1 45

hear, except those things which bear the
marks of sense and reason. The third
is that, when once you have got posses-
sion of some rare and precious treasure,
prize it well and keep a firm hold upon
it.'

When the maiden had finished speak-
ing, the pig prince, who had been wide
awake and had heard all that she had
said, got up, kissed her on the face and
neck and bosom and shoulders with his
tongue, and she was not backward in
returning his caresses ; so that he was
fired with a warm love for her. As soon
as the time for retiring for the night had
come, the bride went to bed and awaited
her unseemly spouse, and, as soon as he
came, she raised the coverlet and bade
him lie near to her and put his head
upon the pillow, covering him carefully
with the bed-clothes and drawing the
curtains so that he might feel no cold.
When morning had come the pig got
up and ranged abroad to pasture, as was
his wont, and very soon after the queen

146 NIGHT THE SECOND.

went to the bride's chamber, expecting
to find that she had met with the same
fate as her sisters ; but when she saw
her lying in the bed, all defiled with
mud as it was, and looking pleased and
contented, she thanked God for this
favour, that her son had at last found
a spouse according to his liking.

One day, soon after this, when the pig
prince was conversing pleasantly with his
wife, he said to her : * Meldina, my be-
loved wife, if I could be fully sure that
you could keep a secret, I would now
tell you one of mine ; something I have
kept hidden for many years. I know
you to be very prudent and wise, and
that you love me truly ; so I wish to
make you the sharer of my secret.' c You
may safely tell it to me, if you will,' said
Meldina, f for I promise never to re-
veal it to anyone without your consent.'
Whereupon, being now sure of his wife's
discretion and fidelity, he straightway
shook off from his body the foul and
dirty skin of the pig, and stood revealed

Transformation Of The Pig Prince

FIRST FABLE

THE FIRST FABLE. 1 47

as a handsome and well-shaped young
man, and all that night rested closely
folded in the arms of his beloved wife.
But he charged her solemnly to keep si-
lence about this wonder she had seen,
for the time had not yet come for his
complete delivery from this misery. So
when he left the bed he donned the dirty
pig's hide once more. I leave you to
imagine for yourselves how great was
the joy of Meldina when she discovered
that, instead of a pig, she had gained a
handsome and gallant young prince for
a husband. Not long after this she
proved to be with child, and when the
time of her delivery came she gave birth
to a fair and shapely boy. The joy of
the king and queen was unbounded, es-
pecially when they found that the new-
born child had the form of a human
being and not that of a beast.

But the burden of the strange and
weighty secret which her husband had
confided to her pressed heavily upon
Meldina, and one day she went to

1 48 NIGHT THE SECOND.

her mother-in-law and said : < Gracious
queen, when first I married your son I
believed I was married to a beast, but
now I find that you have given me the
comeliest, the worthiest, and the most
gallant young man ever born into the
world to be my husband. For know
that when he comes into my chamber
to lie by my side, he casts off his dirty
hide and leaves it on the ground, and is
changed into a graceful handsome youth.
No one could believe this marvel save
they saw it with their own eyes.' When
the queen heard these words she deemed
that her daughter-in-law must be jesting
with her, but Meldina still persisted that
what she said was true. And when the
queen demanded to know how she might
witness with her own eyes the truth of
this thing, Meldina replied : c Come to
my chamber to-night, when we shall be
in our first sleep ; the door will be open,
and you will find that what I tell you is
the truth.'

That same night, when the looked-for

THE FIRST FABLE. 149

time had come, and all were gone to
rest, the queen let some torches be kin-
dled and went, accompanied by the king,
to the chamber of her son, and when
she had entered she saw the pig's skin
lying on the floor in the corner of the
room, and having gone to the bedside,
found therein a handsome young man in
whose arms Meldina was lying. And
when they saw this, the delight of the
king and queen was very great, and
the king gave order that before anyone
should leave the chamber the pig's hide
should be torn to shreds. So great was
their joy over the recovery of their son
that they wellnigh died thereof.

And King Galeotto, when he saw that
he had so fine a son, and a grandchild
likewise, laid aside his diadem and his
royal robes, and advanced to his place
his son, whom he let be crowned with
the greatest pomp, and who was ever
afterwards known as King Pig. Thus,
to the great contentment of all the peo-
ple, the young king began his reign,

ISO NIGHT THE SECOND.

and he lived long and happily with
Meldina his beloved wife.

When Isabella's story was finished,
the whole company broke into laughter
at the notion of the pig prince, all dirty
and muddy as he was, kissing his be-
loved spouse and lying by her side.
" But let us give over laughter," cried
Signora Lucretia, " in order that Isa-
bella's enigma may be given in due
course." And forthwith Isabella, with
a smile, propounded her riddle :

I prithee, sir, to give to me,
What never did belong to thee,
Or ever will, what though thy span
Of life exceed the wont of man.
Dream not this treasure to attain;
Thy longing will be all in vain;
But if you deem me such a prize,
And pine for me with loving eyes,
Give me this boon, my wish fulfil,
For you can grant it if you will.

When Isabella had set forth her cun-
ningly devised enigma, the listeners were
all in a state of bewilderment, for no one

THE FIRST FABLE.

could understand how a man could give
what he did not possess or ever could
possess. But Isabella, when she saw
that they were troubled overmuch, said :
with much good taste and judgment :
" There is no reason for wonder, my
good friends, for a man certainly can
give to a woman that which he has not
or ever will have ; that is to say, a man
has no husband nor ever will have one,
but it is an easy matter for him to give
one to a lady." The whole company
received this solution with much ap-
plause, and when silence had once more
been imposed on the assembly, Fior-
diana, who sat next to Isabella, arose
from her seat and, smiling merrily, said,
" Signora, and you gentle folks all, does
it not seem meet to you that Signor
Molino, our good friend, should enliven
this honourable company with one of
his merry conceits ; and I say this, not
because I want to escape the task of
telling my own story (for I have ready
more than one), but because I feel that a

152 NIGHT THE SECOND.

tale, told with all his accustomed pleas-
ant grace and style, would, just now, give
the company the greater delight. He,
as you well know, is ingenious and full
of wit, and gifted with all those good
parts which pertain to a man of breed-
ing. And as for ourselves, dear ladies,
it is better that we should ply our
needles than be always telling stories."
All agreed with these prudent and
well-timed words of Fiordiana, and
warmly applauded them, and the Sig-
nora, casting her eyes towards Molino,
said : " Come, Signer Antonio, it is now
your turn to enliven us with an example
of your graceful wit." And she signed
to him to begin. Molino, who had not
reckoned on being named as a story-
teller for this evening, first gave his
thanks to Fiordiana for the flattering
words she had spoken of him, and then
in obedience to the Signora's direction
began his fable.

THE SECOND FABLE. 153

THE SECOND FABLE.

jh'Ienio Ststerno, a stuoent of Eologna, fjabing
been trtekeb fog certain latues, takes fji« rebenge
upon tfjem at a feast to fofjicfj fje fjas fct'bben
tJjem.

SHOULD never have be-
lieved or imagined that the
Signora would have laid upon
me the task of telling a story,
seeing that in the due order of things
we should call upon Signora Fiordiana
to give us one. But since it is the
pleasure of the company, I will take
upon myself to tell you something
which may peradventure fit in with
your humour. But if by chance my
narrative (which God forbid) should
prove tiresome to you, or should over-
step the bounds of civility, I must crave
your indulgence therefor, and that the
blame may be laid on Signora Fiordiana,
to whom it is in fact due.

In Bologna, the chief city of Lorn-

154 NIGHT THE SECOND.

bardy, the parent of learning, and a
place furnished with everything needful
for its high and flourishing estate, there
lived a young scholar of graceful and
amiable parts named Filenio Sisterno,
born in the island of Crete. It chanced
one day that a magnificent feast was
given, to which were invited the most
beautiful and distinguished ladies of
Bologna, and many gentlemen, and cer-
tain of the scholars, amongst whom was
Filenio. After the manner of gallants,
he went dallying now with this and now
with that fair dame, and finding no diffi-
culty in suiting his taste, resolved to
lead out one of them for a dance. His
choice fell upon the Signora Emeren-
tiana, the wife of a certain Messer Lam-
berto Bentivogli, and she, who was very
gracious, and no less sprightly than beau-
tiful, did not say him nay. During the
dance, which Filenio took care should
be very gentle and slow, he wrung her
hand softly, and thus addressed her in
a whisper : ' Ah ! Signora, how great is

THE SECOND FABLE. I 5 5

your beauty ; surely it transcends any
that has yet met my eye ; surely the
lady does not live who could ensnare
my heart as you have ensnared it. If
only I might hope you would give me
back the like, I should be the happiest
man in the world ; but if you should
prove cruel, you will soon see me lying
dead at your feet, and know yourself
as the cause of my bane. Seeing that
I love you so entirely — and indeed I
could do no other thing — you ought
to take me for your servant, disposing
both of my person and of the little I
can call mine as if they were your own.
Higher favour from heaven I could not
obtain than to find myself subject to
such a mistress, who has taken me in
the snare of love as if I had been a
bird.' Emerentiana, while she listened
earnestly to these sweet and gracious
speeches, like a modest gentlewoman
made as though she had no ears, and
held her peace. When the measure had
come to an end, Emerentiana sat down,

IS NIGHT THE SECOND.

and straightway Filenio led out another
lady as his partner, but the dance had
scarcely begun before he began to ad-
dress her in like fashion : t Of a truth,
most gracious Signora, there is no need
for me to waste words in setting forth
how deep and ardent is the love I have
for you, and ever shall have, so long as
this soul of mine inhabits and rules my
unworthy frame. And I would hold my-
self blest indeed if I could possess you
as the lady of my heart and my peculiar
mistress. Therefore, loving you as I
do, and being wholly yours, as you may
easily understand, I beg you will deign
to take me for your most humble ser-
vant, seeing that my life and everything
I have to live for depends on you and
on no other.' The young lady, whose
name was Panthemia, although she un-
derstood all this, made no reply, but
modestly went on with the dance, and,
when it had come to an end, she sat
down with the other ladies, smiling a
little the while.

THE SECOND FABLE. I 57

But short time had passed before the
gallant scholar took a third partner by
the hand ; this time the most seemly,
the most gracious, and the fairest lady
in Bologna, and began to tread a meas-
ure with her, making all those who-
pressed round to admire her, give way ~
and before the dance was ended he thus,
addressed her : ' Most estimable ladyy
perhaps I shall seem to you out of
measure presumptuous to reveal the se-
cret love which I have borne, and still
bear towards you, but for this offence
blame not me, but your own beauty,
which raises you high above all others,
and makes me your slave. I speak not
now of your delightful manners, nor of
your surpassing virtues, which are great
enough and many enough to bring all
the world to your feet. If then your
loveliness, the work of nature, and owing
nought to art, fascinates everyone, there,
is no wonder that it should constrain:
me to love you and to guard your image-
in my inmost heart. I beseech you thenr

158 NIGHT THE SECOND.

sweet lady, the one comfort of my life,
to spare some tenderness for one who
dies for you a thousand times a day.
If you grant me this grace I shall know
I owe my life to you ; so to your kind-
ness I now recommend myself.'

The fair lady, who was called Sinforo-
sia, when she heard the sweet and lov-
ing words which came from Filenio's
ardent bosom, could not forbear sighing,
but taking heed of her honour as a mar-
ried woman she answered him nought,
and when the dance was come to an end
returned to her seat.

It happened that all these three ladies
found themselves sitting in a ring close
to one another, and disposed for sprightly
talk, when Emerentiana, the spouse of
Messer Lamberto, moved by jocund hu-
mour and not by spite, said to her two
companions, c Dear friends, I have to
tell you of a diverting adventure which
has this evening befallen me.' c And
what is it ? * they inquired. Said Eme-
rentiana, f This evening, in the course

THE SECOND FABLE. I 59

of the dancing, I have gotten for my-
self a cavalier, the handsomest, the trim-
mest, the most gracious you could find
anywhere, who protests himself to be so
hotly inflamed with my beauty that he
can find no rest day or night/ And
word by word she related all that the
scholar had said to her. As soon as
Panthemia and Sinforosia heard her
story, they told her that the same had
happened to them, and before they left
the feast they had satisfied themselves
that it was the same gallant who had
made love to all three of them. Where-
fore they clearly comprehended that the
words of this gallant sprang not from
loyal feeling, but from deceit and feign-
ing of love, and they gave to them no
more credence than one is wont to give
to the babblings of a sick man or to the
romancer's fables, and they did not go
from thence before they had agreed,
each one of them, to put a trick upon
him such as he would not readily for-
get ; for ladies, too, may play jokes.

160 NIGHT THE SECOND.

Filenio meantime was bent on amorous
design, and went on making love, now to
one lady now to another. Judging from
their carnage that they looked not un-
kindly upon him, he set himself the
task, if it were possible, of moving each
one of them to grant him the supremest
favour of love, but the issue of the affair
was not according to his desire, for all
his schemes went astray.

Emerentiana, who could no longer
bear with the mock love-making of the
silly scholar, called to a pretty buxom
handmaid of hers, and charged her to find
some excuse for speaking with Filenio,
in order to disclose to him the love
which her mistress had conceived for
him, and to let him know that he might
whenever he would spend a night with
her in her own house. When Filenio
heard this he was much elated, and said
to the maid, c Hasten home forthwith
and commend me to your mistress, and
tell her in my behalf that she may ex-
pect me this evening at her house, pro-

THE SECOND FABLE. 1 6 1

vided that her husband be not at home.'
When this word had been brought to
Emerentiana, she straightway caused to
be collected a great store of prickly
thorns, and having strewn these under
the bed where she lay at night, she
awaited the coming of her gallant. When
it had become dusk the scholar took his
sword and stole towards the house of
his fancied mistress, and the door, when
he had given the password, was imme-
diately opened. Then, when the two
had held some little converse and supped
daintily, they withdrew into the bed-
chamber for the night.

Scarcely had Filenio taken off his
clothes to go to bed when Messer Lam-
berto was heard without, and hereupon
the lady, feigning to be at her wits' end
where she should hide her lover, bade
him get under the bed. Filenio, seeing
how great the danger was, both to the
lady and to himself, made haste to be-
take himself thither, without putting on
any more clothes than the shirt he wore,

1 62 NIGHT THE SECOND

and was in consequence so grievously
pricked by the thorns prepared for him
that there was no part of his body, from
the crown of his head to the sole of his
foot, which was not running with blood.
And the more he essayed in this dark
hole to defend himself from the pricks,
the more grievously was he wounded,
and he dared not make a sound lest
Messer Lamberto should hear him and
slay him. I leave you to figure in what
plight the poor wretch found himself
that night, seeing that he dared not call
out, though he was like to lose a good
part of his breech through the torment
he was suffering. When the morning
was come, and the husband had left the
house, the wretched scholar clothed him-
self as best he could, and made his way
back to his lodging, bleeding and in
great fear lest he should die. But being
well treated by his physician, he got well
and recovered his former health.

Many days had not passed before
Filenio essayed another bout of love-

THE SECOND FABLE. 1 63

making, casting amorous eyes on the
other two ladies, Panthemia and Sin-
forosia, and went so far as to find one
evening an occasion to address Pan-
themia, to whom he rehearsed his con-
tinued woes and torments, and besought
her that she would have pity upon him.
Panthemia, who was full of tricks and
mischief, while feigning to compassionate
him, made excuse that it was not in her
power to do his will ; but at last, as if
vanquished by his tender prayers and
ardent sighs, she brought him into her
house. And when he was undressed,
and ready to go to bed with her, she
bade him go into a cabinet adjacent,
where she kept her orange water and
perfumes, to the intent that he might
well perfume his person, and then go
to bed. The scholar, never suspecting
the cunning of this mischief-working
dame, entered the cabinet, and having
set his foot upon a board unnailed from
the joist which held it up, he and the
board as well fell down into a warehouse

164 NIGHT THE SECOND.

below, in which certain merchants kept
their store of cotton and wool, and al-
though he fell so far he suffered no ill.
The scholar, finding himself in this dark
place, began to search for some ladder
or door to serve his exit, but coming
upon none he cursed the hour and the
place where he had first set eyes on Pan-
themia. The morning dawned at last,
and then the unhappy wight began to
realize by degrees the full treachery of
Panthemia. He espied on one side of
the storehouse certain outlets in the wall,
through which streamed in a dim light,
and, finding the masonry to be old and
moss-grown, he set to work with all his
strength to pull out the stones in the
spot which had fallen most to decay, and
soon made a gap big enough to let him
out. And, finding himself in an alley,
clad only in his shirt, and stockingless,
he stole back to his lodging without
being seen of any.

And next it happened that Sinforosia,
having heard of the tricks which the two

THE SECOND FABLE. 1 65

others had played the scholar, resolved
to treat him with a third, no less note-
worthy ; so, the next time she saw him,
she began to ogle him with the tail of
her eye, by way of telling him that a
passion for him was burning her up.
Filenio, forgetting straightway his former
mishaps, began to walk up and down
past her house, and play the lover. Sin-
forosia, when she saw from this that he
was deeply smitten with love for her,
sent him a letter by an old woman to
let him know that he had so completely
captured her fancy by his fine person
and gracious manners that she could find
rest neither night nor day, and to beg
him that, whenever it might please him,
he would come and hold converse with
her, and give her a pleasure greater than
any other. Filenio took the letter, and
having mastered the contents, was at
once filled with more glee and happiness
than he had ever known before, clean
forgetting all the tricks and injuries he
had suffered hitherto. He took pen and

1 66 NIGHT THE SECOND.

ink, and wrote a reply, that, though she
might be enamoured of him, he, on his
part, was just as much in love with her,
or even more, and that at any time she
might appoint he would hold himself at
her service and commands. When she
had read this reply, Sinforosia made it
her business to find full soon an oppor-
tunity for the scholar to be brought to
her house, and then, after many feigned
sighs, she said : * O my Filenio, of a
truth I know of no other gallant who
could have brought me into such plight,
but you alone ; since your comeliness,
your grace, and your discourse have
kindled such fire in my heart that I burn
like dry wood.' The scholar, while he
listened, took it for certain that she was
melting with love for him, and, poor
simpleton as he was, kept on some time
bandying sweet and loving words with
her, till it seemed to him that the time
had come to go to bed and to lie down
beside her. Then Sinforosia said : l Be-
fore we go to bed it seems meet that we

THE SECOND FABLE. 1 67

should regale ourselves somewhat. And
having taken him by the hand, she led
him into an adjoining cabinet, where
there was a table spread with sumptuous
cakes and wines of the finest, in which
the mischievous dame had caused to be
mingled a certain drug, potent to send
her gallant to sleep for a certain time.
Filenio took a cup and filled it with
wine, and suspecting no fraud he emptied
it straightway. Enlivened by the ban-
quet, and having washed himself in orange
water and dainty perfumes, he got into
bed, and then immediately the drug be-
gan to work, and he slept so sound that
even the uproar of great artillery would
scarce have awakened him. Then, when
Sinforosia perceived that he was in a
heavy slumber and that the drug was
doing its work well, she called one of
her maids, a strong wench whom she
had made privy to the jest, and the two
of them took Filenio by the legs and
arms, and, having opened the door softly,
they placed him in the street, about a

1 68 NIGHT THE SECOND.

stone's cast from the house, and there
left him.

It was about an hour before dawn
when, the drug having spent its force,
the poor wretch came to himself, and,
believing that he had been in bed with
the lady, found himself instead stock-
ingless, and clad only in his shirt, and
half dead with cold through lying on the
bare ground. Almost helpless in his
arms and legs, he found it a hard matter
to get on his feet, and, when he had done
so much, it was with difficulty that he
kept from falling again ; but he managed,
as best he could, to regain his lodging
and to care for his health. Had it not
been for his lusty youth, he would surely
have been maimed for life ; but he re-
gained his former health, and when he
went abroad again he showed no signs
of remembering his injuries and vexa-
tions which had been put upon him ;
but, on the other hand, he bore himself
toward the three ladies as if he loved
them as well as ever, and feigned, now

THE SECOND FABLE. 169

to be enamoured of one, and now of
another. The ladies, never suspecting
malice on his part, put a good face on
the matter, and treated him graciously
as if they were dealing with a real lover.
Filenio was many times tempted to give
his hand free play, and to mark their
faces for them, but he prudently took
thought of the condition of the ladies,
and of the shame that would be cast on
him should he offer violence to them,
and he restrained his wrath. Day and
night he considered how he might best
wreak his vengeance on them, and when
he could hit on no plan he was in great
perplexity. But in the course of time
he devised a scheme by which he might
readily work his purpose, and fortune
aided him to prosecute it as he designed.
He hired for himself in the city a very
fine house, containing a magnificent hall
and many dainty chambers, and in this
he purposed to give a great and sump-
tuous feast, and to- invite thereto a com-
pany of gentlefolk, Emerentiana, and

I/0 NIGHT THE SECOND.

Panthemia, and Sinforosia amongst the
rest. They accepted the scholar's invi-
tation without demur, suspecting noth-
ing sinster in the same, and when they
were come to the feast the wily scholar
led them with many courteous speeches
into a room and begged them to take
some refreshment. As soon as the three
ladies — foolish and imprudent indeed —
had entered the room, Filenio locked
the door, and, advancing towards them,
said : c Now, my pretty ladies, the time
is come for me to take my revenge upon
you, and to give you some repayment
for all the ills you put upon me, just
because I loved you so well.' When
they heard these words, they seemed
more dead than alive, and began to re-
pent heartily that they had ever abused
him, and at the same time to curse their
own folly in having trusted the word of
one they ought to have treated as a foe.
Then the scholar with fierce and threat-
ening looks commanded them that they
should, if they set any store on their

THE SECOND FABLE. 1 7 I

lives, strip themselves naked, and the
ladies, when they heard this speech, ex-
changed glances one with the other and
began to weep, begging him the while,
not only for the sake of love, but also
for the sake of his natural gentleness,
that their honour might be left to them.
Filenio, exulting in his deed, was ex-
ceedingly polite to them, but at the same
time informed them that he could not
suffer them to remain clothed in his
presence. Hereupon the ladies cast
themselves down at Filenio's feet, and
with piteous weeping humbly besought
him not to be the cause of so great
shame to them. But he, whose heart
was now grown as hard as a stone, cried
out that what he would do to them was
in no sense blameworthy : it was noth-
ing but just revenge ; so the ladies were
forced to take off their clothes and to
stand as naked as when they were born,
in which condition they appeared fully
as fair as when apparelled. When this
had come to pass even Filenio began to

NIGHT THE SECOND

feel some pity for them ; but, remem-
bering his recent wrongs, and the mortal
perils he had undergone, he chased away
his pitying humour and once more har-
dened his heart. He then craftily con-
veyed all the clothes and linen they had
lately worn into a neighbouring cabinet,
and bade them with threatenings all to
get into one bed. The ladies, altogether
astounded and shaking with terror, cried
out, ' Wretched fools that we are ! What
will our husbands and our friends say
when it shall be told to them that we
have been found here slain in this shame-
ful case ? ' The scholar, seeing them
lying one by the other like married folk,
took a large sheet of linen, very white,
but not fine enough to suffer their bodies
to be seen and recognized, and covered
them therewith from head to foot ; then
he left the chamber, locking the door
behind him, to go and find the three
husbands, who were dancing in the hall.
Their dance being finished, Filenio led
them with him into the chamber where

THE SECOND FABLE.

the ladies were lying in the bed, and said
to them : ' Gentlemen, I have brought
you hither for your diversion, and to
show you the prettiest sight you have
ever seen ; ' and, having led them up to
the bed with a torch in his hand, he be-
gan softly to lift up the covering at their
feet, and to turn it back so as to disclose
the fair limbs beneath it as far as the
knees, thus giving the three husbands
something wondrous fair to look upon.
Next he uncovered them as far as their
stomachs, which he then disclosed en-
tirely by lifting the sheet in the same
way. I leave you to imagine how grea.t
was the diversion the three gentlemen
got from this jest of Filenio's, also in
what distressful plight these poor wretch-
ed ladies found themselves when they
heard their husbands join in mocking
them. They lay quite still, not daring
even to cough, lest they should be dis-
covered, while their husbands kept ur-
ging the scholar to uncover their faces ;
but he, wiser in other men's wrongs than

1/4 NIGHT THE SECOND.

in his own, would not oblige them so
far. Not content with this, he brought
forth their garments, which he showed to
their husbands, who, when they looked
thereon, were astonished and somewhat
perturbed at heart, and, after examining
them closely, said one to another : c Is
not this the gown which I once had
made for my wife ? ' c Is not this the
coif which I bought for her ? ' c Is not
this the pendant that she hangs round
her neck ? Are not these the rings she
wears on her fingers ? '

At last Filenio brought the three
gentlemen out of the chamber, and bade
them, so as not to break up the com-
pany, to remain to supper. The schol-
ar, learning that the supper was ready
and everything set in order by the major-
domo, gave the word for everyone to
take his place. And while the guests
were setting their teeth to work, Filenio
returned to the chamber where the three
ladies were, and as he uncovered them
said : ( Good evening, fair ladies ; did

Filenio Sisterno's Revenge

SECOND FABLE

THE SECOND FABLE. 1 75

you hear what your husbands were say-
ing ? They are now without, waiting
impatiently to see you. Get up ; surely
you have slept enough ; give over yawn-
ing and rubbing your eyes. Take your
clothes and don them without delay, and
go into the hall where the other guests
await you.' With such words as these
he mocked them ; while they, discon-
solate and despairing, feared lest this
adventure might come to some fatal is-
sue, and wept bitterly. At last, full of
anguish and terror, and looking for no-
thing less than death at his hands, they
arose and turning to the scholar said to
him : t Filenio, you have taken more
than vengeance upon us. Now nothing
remains but for you to draw your sword
and make an end of our lives, for we
desire death beyond any other thing.
And if you will not grant us this boon,
at least suffer us to return unobserved
to our homes, so that our honour may
be saved.'

Filenio, seeing that he had carried the

1/ NIGHT THE SECOND.

affair far enough, gave them back their
garments, and directed them to clothe
themselves quickly, and when this was
done he sent them out of the house by
a secret door, and they went back to
their homes. At once they laid aside
their fine clothes, which they had lately
worn, and put them away in their presses,
and with great prudence sat down to
work instead of going to bed. When
the feast had come to an end, the three
husbands thanked the scholar for the
fine entertainment he had given them,
and in particular for the sight of the
beauties laid out for their benefit in the
chamber, beauties surpassing the sun
himself, and, having taken leave of him,
they returned to their homes, where
they found their wives sewing beside the
hearth. Now the sight of the clothes,
and the rings, and the jewels, which the
scholar had exhibited to them, had made
them somewhat suspicious : so each one
now demanded of his wife where she
had spent that evening, and where her

THE SECOND FABLE. 1 77

best garments wereu To this question-
ing each lady replied boldly that she had
not left the house that evening, and, tak-
ing the keys of the coffers wherein was
disposed her apparel, she showed this to
her husband, with the rings and other
jewels which he had given her. When
the husbands saw these they were silent,
and knew not what to say, but after a
little they told their wives word by word
what they had seen that evening. The
ladies made as if they knew nothing of
it, and, after jesting a little over the
matter, they undressed and went to bed.
And in after times Filenio often met the
three ladies in the streets, and would al-
ways inquire of them : f Which of you
was in the greatest fear ? and did I suffer
most from your jests, or you from mine? '
But they ahvays held their eyes down
on the ground, and said nothing. And
in this fashion the scholar avenged him-
self as well as he could of the tricks he
had suffered, without violence or out-
rage.

178 NIGHT THE SECOND.

When they had listened to the story
of Molino, the Signora and all the other
ladies declared that the revenge, worked
upon the three gentlewomen by the
scholar for the tricks they had played
him, was no less revolting than cowardly ;
but when they came to consider the se-
vere punishment which the poor fellow
had suffered in couching upon the thorns,
and the danger of breaking his bones he
had incurred in falling down into the
warehouse, and the biting cold he had
been exposed to when laid out in the
open street upon the bare earth clad only
in his shirt, they admitted that his ven-
geance was no heavier than was due.
The Signora, though she had excused
Fiordiana from telling her story in due
order, now demanded of her that she
should at least give her enigma, which
ought to have some reference to the story
of the scholar ; and she, in obedience to
this word, said : c Signora, it happens that
the enigma which I have to submit to the
company has nothing in keeping with

THE SECOND FABLE. 1 79

deeds of grave and terrible vengeance
such as the ingenious Signer Antonio has
set forth in his fable, but at the same
time it will be one which may be of in-
terest to every studious youth.' And
without further delay she propounded
her enigma :

From two dead blocks a living man
Gave life to one whose spirit ran
To vivify another wight,
Who thus from darkness rose to light.
Two living ones together bide,
The creature by the maker's side,
And by the creature's radiance led,
The master communes with the dead.

This subtle riddle of the Signora Fior-
diana was interpreted in various wise, but
not one of the company hit upon its ex,act
meaning. And seeing that Fiordiana kept
on shaking her head at the essays made
by the company, Bembo remarked with
a quiet smile, " Signora Fiordiana, it
seems to me to be foolishness to waste our
time in this fashion. Tell us what you
will, and we shall be contented." " Since

180 NIGHT THE SECOND.

this noble company decrees," replied
Fiordiana, " that I should be my own
interpreter, I will gladly do this ; not be-
cause I deem myself in any way com-
petent for this task, but because I wish
to oblige all you here, to whom I am
bound by so many kindnesses. My
enigma shows simply a student who rises
from bed early in the morning, and he, a
living thing, by the working of two dead
things, the flint and the steel, gives life
to the dead tinder, and this in its turn en-
livens the dead candle. Thus the first
living one, the student, by the help of
these other two living ones who lately
were dead, sits down to converse with the
dead, that is, with the books writ by
learned men of times long past." The
explication of this most ingenious riddle
by Fiordiana pleased the company greatly,
and the Signora directed Lionora to be-
gin her story at once.

THE THIRD FABLE. 1 8 1

THE THIRD FABLE.

Carlo fca ISimim bainlg pursues 2Tfje0tJosta fattfj
fjts lobe, sfje fjabinn; resolbeli to libe a btrgm.
En stribing to embrace fjer fje meets tottfj tifaera
mtsatjbentures, antj is toell beaten bp ty% oinn
serbants to boot.

[EAR ladies, the clever story
just told to us by Molino has
made me give up all thought
of relating to you the one I
had in my mind, and to offer in its place
another which, if I am not mistaken,
will be equally pleasing to you ladies as
Molino's was to the gentlemen. Mine
will certainly be shorter than his, and,
I think I may say, more decent in the
subject it treats.

I must tell you then that Carlo da
Rimini — as I think many of you know
— was a man whose trade was fighting,
a despiser of God, a blasphemer of the
saints, brutal and a cutthroat, and at the
same time given over to all kinds of

1 82 NIGHT THE SECOND.

effeminate luxury. So great indeed was
his malignity and the corruption of his
nature, that his equal could not be found.
Now in the days when he was a hand-
some, seemly young man, it chanced that
he became hotly enamoured of a certain
maiden, the daughter of a poor widow,
who, though she was very poor and only
contrived to find a living for herself
and her child with much difficulty, would
rather have died with hunger than have
consented to live on the wages of her
daughter's sin.

The maiden, whose name was Theo-
dosia, was very fair and graceful in her
person, and no less honest and discreet
in her conduct ; moreover, she was of a
prudent, sober temper, and had already
determined to devote herself to the reli-
gious life and to prayer, holding all
worldly things to be of small account.
Carlo, therefore, burning with lascivious
passion, was in the habit of molesting
her with his attentions every day, and
on any day when he might not chance

THE THIRD FABLE. 183

to see her he was like to die of vexa-
tion.

With flatteries and gifts and solicita-
tions he made frequent trial to win the
maiden's consent to his wishes, but all
his importunities were in vain; for, like
a wise and good girl, she would have
none of his presents, and every day she
prayed to God to turn away from his
heart these dishonest wishes. At last
there came a time when he could no
longer hold within bounds his ardent
lust and bestial desire, and, feeling
gravely affronted at these continual re-
buffs by one whom he loved more dearly
than his own life, he made up his mind
to ravish her and satisfy his lecherous
appetite, let the consequence be what it
might. But he feared to stir up a com-
motion through any public scandal, lest
the people, who held him in great hatred,
should rise and slay him.

But at last, being overcome by his un-
bridled desire, with his mind distem-
pered with rage as if he had been a mad

1 84 NIGHT THE SECOND.

dog, he made a plan with two of his
underlings — desperate ruffians both of
them — to carry her off and then to rav-
ish her. Therefore one day, when the
evening dusk had fallen, he armed him-
self and went with the two desperadoes
to the young girl's dwelling-place, the
door of which he found open ; but be-
fore entering he charged his men to keep
on the alert, and to take care, as they
valued their own lives, that no other
person should enter the house or come
out therefrom until he himself should
rejoin them. The two ruffians, who
were full willing to obey their leader's
behests, gave answer that whatever he
might command should be carried out.
But Theodosia (by some means un-
known to me) had got tidings of Carlo's
intent, and had shut herself up in a small
kitchen, and Carlo, when he had mounted
the staircase of the poor little house,
found there the old mother, who, sus-
pecting nothing of any such surprise,
had taken to her spinning. He de-

THE THIRD FABLE. 185

manded forthwith where was her daugh-
ter, for whom he had such great love
and desire, and the poor old woman, as
soon as she perceived that the young
lecher was fully armed and manifestly
more inclined to evil than to good, was
greatly confounded in her mind, and
her face became as white as the face of
a corpse, and she was on the point of
screaming aloud ; but, perceiving that
her outcries would be of no use, she de-
termined to hold her peace, and put her
honour in the keeping of God, whom
she altogether trusted. So, plucking up
her courage, she turned to Carlo and
said : ' Carlo, I know not what humour
or what insolent spirit may have brought
you here to defile the soul of this girl,
who desires to live honestly. If by
chance you should be come with right-
eous intent, then may God grant you
fulfilment of every just and honourable
wish ; but if it should be otherwise, which
God forbid, you are guilty of a great
wickedness in trying to attain by outrage

1 86 NIGHT THE SECOND.

that which can never be yours. There-
fore, cast away and have done with this
unbridled lust, and no longer strive to
ravish from my daughter that which you
can never give back to her, to wit, the
chastity of her body. And the more
you lust after her, the more she will
hate you, seeing that her mind is firm
set to dedicate herself to virginity.'

Carlo, when he heard these moving
words spoken by the poor old mother,
instead of being awakened to pity or
turned away from his evil intent, raged
like a madman, and began to search for
Theodosia in every corner of the house,
without finding any trace of her, until he
came to the little kitchen, where, seeing
that the door was fast close, he thought
(and thought rightly) that she must be
concealed. Then, spying through a crack
in the door, he perceived Theodosia, who
was at her prayers, and with honeyed
words he began to beseech her that she
would open to him the door, addressing
her in these terms : * Theodosia, life of

THE THIRD FABLE.

my life, be sure that I am not come here
to sully your honour, which is more dear
to me than my own self and my own
good name, but to take you as my wife,
provided that my offer be acceptable to
you and to your good mother. And,
beyond this, I swear I will have the life
of anyone who may in any way affront
your honour.'

Theodosia, who listened attentively
to Carlo's speech, answered him straight-
way in these terms : < Carlo, I beseech
you to give over this obstinate prosecu-
tion of your desire. I can never marry
you, seeing that I have offered my vir-
ginal service to Him who sees and gov-
erns us all. And if cruel fortune should
suffer you to defile violently this body
of mine, at least you will have no power
to blacken the purity of my soul, which
from the hour of my birth I have dedi-
cated to my Creator. God has given
you freedom of will so that you may
know the evil from the good, and may
do that which seems best to you. Fol-

1 88 NIGHT THE SECOND.

low, therefore, after the good, and you
will be of good report, and turn aside
from evil.' Carlo, when he found that
his flattery availed him nothing, and that
the maiden refused to have aught to say
to him, could no longer keep under the
fire which was burning in his heart, and,
more maddened than ever, trusted no
longer to words, but resorted to violence,
bursting open by force the door, which,
being none of the strongest, soon gave
way as he willed.

When Carlo entered the little kitchen
and cast his eyes upon the maiden, so
full of grace and fair beyond belief, his
passion grew hotter than ever, and, think-
ing only of satisfying to the full his in-
ordinate lust, he threw himself upon
her from behind, just as if he had been
an eager famishing greyhound, and she
a timid hare. And the ill-fated Theo-
dosia, with her golden hair loose over
her shoulders, and grasped tightly round
the neck by Carlo, grew pale, and felt
so deadly a languor coming over her that

THE THIRD FABLE. 1 89

she couid scarcely move. Then she
commended her soul to heaven and de-
manded help of God above, and scarcely
had she finished her mental prayer, when,
in miraculous wise, her body seemed to
melt away out of Carlo's grip ; and at
the same time God dazzled so com-
pletely his eyesight and understanding
that he no longer knew rightly what
were the things around him, and while
he deemed he was holding the maid in
his embrace and covering her with kisses
and endearments, he was, in sooth, em-
bracing nothing better than the pots and
pans, spits and cauldrons, and other
kitchen gear lying about the place.
Though his lust was in some measure
satisfied, he soon felt his wounded heart
stirring again, and again he flew to em-
brace a huge kettle, fancying all the
while that he held in his arms the fair
form of Theodosia. In thus handling
the kettles and cauldrons his hands and
face were so besmirched with soot that
he looked less like Carlo da Rimini than.

19° NIGHT THE SECOND.

the devil. In the end, feeling that his
desire was for the nonce satisfied, and
conscious that it was time to retreat, he
made his way out by the staircase all
blackened as he was, but the two ruf-
fians, who were keeping guard near the
door lest anyone should enter or leav?
the house, when they saw him thus
transformed, with his face all disfigured,
and looking more like a beast than a
human being, imagined that he must be
some ghost or evil spirit, and were fain
to take to their heels and save them-
selves from this monster. But having
taken heart to stand up to him, and to
look closely into his face, which seemed
to them mightily disfigured and ugly,
they began to drub him with cudgels
and with their fists, which were as hard
as iron, so that they mangled cruelly his
face and his shoulders with hearty good-
will, and left not a hair on his head. Not
content with this, they threw him down
on the ground, stripping off the clothes
from his back, and dealing him as many

THE THIRD FABLE.

kicks and cuffs as he could endure, and
the blows fell so thick and fast that
Carlo had no time allowed him to open
his mouth and ask the reason of his cruel
chastisement. Nevertheless, he made
shift at last to break away from their
hold, when he ran as for his life, always
suspecting, however, that the ruffians
were close behind him.

Thus Carlo, having been soundly
beaten l by his servants, his eyes being so
discoloured and swollen from their lusty
pummelling that he could scarcely see,
ran towards the piazza, clamouring and
complaining loudly of the ill-handling
he had got from his own men. The
town-guard, when he heard these shouts
and lamentations, went towards him, and,
marking his disfigured state and his face
all bedaubed with dirt, took him for a
madman. And since no one recognized
him, the whole crowd began to mock
at him, and to cry : ' Give it to him,

1 Orig., essendo da suoi servi senza pettint oltra mode
(arminato.

I92 NIGHT THE SECOND.

give it to him, for he is a lunatic/ Then
some hustled him, others spat in his face,
and others took dust and cast it in his
eyes; and they kept on" maltreating him
thus for a good space of time, until the
uproar came to the ears of the praetor,
who, having risen from his bed and gone
to the window which overlooked the
piazza, demanded what had happened
to cause so great a tumult. One of the
guards thereupon answered that there
was a madman who was turning the
piazza topsy-turvy, and the praetor gave
order that he should be securely bound
and brought before him, which com-
mand was forthwith carried out.

Now Carlo, who up to this time had
been the terror of all, rinding himself
thus bound and ill-treated and insulted,
without a notion as to the cause of
it, was utterly confounded in his mind,
and broke out into so violent a rage
that he well nigh burst the bonds that
held him. But as soon as he was
brought before the praetor, the latter,

THE THIRD FA3LE. 193

recognized him straightway as Carlo da
Rimini, and at once set down the filthy
condition of his prisoner as the work of
Theodosia, for he was privy to the fact
that Carlo was inflamed with passion for
the girl. Therefore he at once began
to use soft speech and to soothe Carlo,
promising to make smart sharply those
who had brought upon him such a
shameful mischance. Carlo, who sus-
pected not that his face was like that of
a blackamoor, could not at first gather
the purport of these words, but in the
end, when it had been known to him
how filthy his condition was, how that
he resembled a brute beast rather than a
man, he, like the praetor, attributed his
discomfiture to Theodosia, and, letting
his rage have free course, he swore an
oath that unless the praetor would punish
her he would take revenge by his own
hand. When the morning was come,
the praetor sent for Theodosia, deeming
that she had wrought this deed by
magic arts. But she gave good heed to

194 NIGHT THE SECOND.

the plight in which she stood, and com-
pletely realized the great danger there-
of; so she betook herself to a convent
of nuns of holy life, where she abode
secretly, serving God for the rest of her
days with a cheerful heart.

It happened after this that Carlo was
sent to lay siege to a strong place, and,
when in the assault he pressed on to
a more desperate essay than he had
power to accomplish, he found himself
caught like a rat in a trap ; for, as he
mounted the walls of the citadel to
plant thereon the banner of the Pope,
he was smitten by a great stone, which
crushed him and dashed him to pieces in
such manner that no time was allowed
to him to make his peace with heaven.
Thus the wicked Carlo made a wretched
end of his days, according to his deserts,
without having plucked that fruit of
love he desired so ardently.

Before Lionora had come to the end
of her concisely-told fable, all her good
companions began to laugh over the

THE THIRD FABLE. 195

stupidity of Carlo in kissing and em-
bracing the pots and kettles, thinking all
the while that he was enjoying his be-
loved Theodosia ; nor did they make
less merry in the case of the cuffs and
blows he got from the hands of his own
men in the rough handling they gave
him. And after a good spell of laughter
Lionora, without waiting for further word
from the Signora, set forth her enigma :

I am fine and pure and bright,

At my best am snowy white.

Maid and matron scourge and flout me,

Yet they cannot do without me,

For I serve both young and old,

Shield their bodies from the cold.

A parent mighty mothered me,

Mother of all mothers she.

And, my time of service past,

I'm torn and beaten at the last.

This cleverly-worded enigma won the
praise of all the company, but since it
seemed to be beyond the power of any-
one to solve it, Lionora was requested
to divulge its meaning ; whereupon she

NIGHT THE SECOND.

said with a smile : " It is scarcely be-
coming that one of parts so slender
as mine should presume to teach you,
ladies and gentlemen, who are so much
better versed in knowledge. But since
this is your will, and since your will to
me is law, I will tell you forthwith what
I mean by my enigma. It means noth-
ing else than linen cloth, fine and white,
which is by ladies pierced by scissors
and needles, and beaten. And it serves
as a covering to us all, and comes from
the mother of us all, the earth ; more-
over, when it grows old we no longer
send it to the fuller, but let in be torn
up small and made into paper."

Everyone was pleased with the inter-
pretation of this clever enigma and com-
mended it highly. The Signora having
already remarked that Lodovica, who
was chosen to tell the next story, was
troubled with a bad headache, turned
to the Trevisan and said, " Signor Bene-
detto, it is indeed the duty of us ladies
to provide the stories to-night ; but see-

THE FOURTH FABLE.

ing that Lodovica is gravely troubled in
her head, we beg you to take her place
this evening, and grant you free field to
tell whatever may please you best." To
which speech the Trevisan thus replied :
"It happens, Signora, that I am little
skilled in these matters ; nevertheless
(since your will commands my entire
obedience) I will use my best effort to
satisfy you all, begging you at the same
time to hold me excused if I fail there-
in." And having made due salutation,
he rose from his seat and began his story
in the following words :

THE FOURTH FABLE.

je oebil, fjabing fjeafb tubers fjusbanfcs railing
ober rjje fjumotirs of tfjefr bribes, makes trial at
matrimong bg espousing jSilbia Balastro, anti,
not being able to ensure ijis brife for long,
enters into tlje bofcg of tlje ©uke of JHalpfji.

HE frivolity and want of judg-
ment which nowadays is to be
found amongst most women
(I speak of those who, without heed,

I98 NIGHT THE SECOND.

give full license to their eyes and fancy
in straining to compass their unbridled
lust), offers me occasion to tell to this
noble concourse a story which may not
be familiar. And, although you may
find it somewhat short, and ill put to-
gether, it may, nevertheless, serve as a
wholesome lesson to you wives to be
less irksome and exacting to your hus-
bands than you have been heretofore.
And if I seem to lay on the lash too
heavily, blame not me, who am but the
humble servant of all you others, but
make your complaint to the Signora,
who, as you have heard, has given me
leave to set before you whatever story
might commend itself to my taste.

I will first tell you, gracious ladies,
that many years ago the devil, becoming
weary of the unceasing and clamorous
accusations made by husbands against
their wives, determined to test the truth
of these by making trial of marriage
himself, and, that he might the better
compass this design, he took the shape

THE FOURTH F4BLE. 199

of a goodly young man of courtly man-
ners, and well furnished with lands and
gold, Pancrazio Stornello by name. As
soon as the bruit of his intention got
abroad in the city, divers matchmakers
waited upon him with plentiful choice
of comely women, well dowered, for his
wife, and from amongst these he settled
upon Silvia Balastro, a noble maiden.
Never before had the city witnessed such
magnificent nuptials and rejoicings. The
kinsfolk of the bride came from far and
near, and for the best man the bride-
groom chose one Gasparino Boncio, a
townsman of repute. A few days after
the marriage the devil addressed Sylvia,
saying, l My dear wife, I need scarcely
tell you that I love you better than I
love myself, seeing that I have already
given you many tokens of my affection ;
therefore, for the sake of this love of
mine, I am about to beg of you a favour
which will be easy for you to grant, and
most acceptable to me. This favour is
nought else than that you should de-

200 NIGHT THE SECOND.

mand of me all that you want now, and
all that you will ever be likely to want,
of raiment, jewellery, pearls, and other
things of the same sort which ladies love ;
for I have determined, on account of the
great love I have for you, to give you
all you may demand, though it may cost
a kingdom. I make but one condition,
which is, that you shall never trouble me
about such matters again ; so be careful
that you get all you can possibly require
for the rest of our married life, and be
careful likewise never to demand aught
of me more, for you will ask in vain.'
Silvia begged for time to consider this
proposition, and, having betaken herself
to Signora Anastasia, her mother, a
worldly-wise old lady, she laid bare the
offer of her husband, and asked for ad-
vice thereanent. Anastasia, who knew
well enough how to play a game of this
sort, took pen and paper and wrote out
a list of articles, such as would need two
days to describe by word of mouth, and
said to Silvia, ' Take this paper, and ask

THE FOURTH FABLE. 2OI

your husband to give you everything
that is here written down. If he agrees,
you may be well content with him.'
Hereupon Silvia departed, and, having
found her husband, she asked him to
give her all that was written on the list,
and he, when he had carefully read it
over, said, * Are you quite sure, dearest
Sylvia, that you have put down here all
you want — that there is nothing miss-
ing for which at some future time you
may have to ask me ? for I warn you
that, if this should be so, neither your
prayers nor your sighs nor your tears
will avail to get it for you.'

Silvia could think of nothing else to
ask for, and agreed to the conditions of
her husband, who at once commanded
to be made vast store of rich vestments
studded with big pearls, and rings and
all sorts of jewels the most sumptuous
that were ever seen. And over and above
these he gave her coifs and girdles em-
broidered with pearls, and all manner of
other dainty baubles which can be better

202 NIGHT THE SECOND.

imagined than described. When Silvia
was arrayed in these, and conscious of
being the best dressed woman in the
city, she became somewhat saucy. There
was nothing else she could ask her hus-
band for, so well had he cared for her
needs.

It chanced, soon after this, that the
city was all agog concerning a great feast
to which were bidden all the nobles of the
place, and amongst these was naturally
included Silvia, who was amongst the
most beautiful and distinguished ladies in
the city. And the more to honour this
festival, the other ladies met and devised
all sorts of new fashions of dress, altering
them so much that anyone accoutred in
those in vogue heretofore would ' hardly
have been recognized. There was no
mother's daughter in the town — just as
if it had happened to-day — who was not
bent on mounting the newest fashion to
do honour to the festival, and each one
vied to outdo the other in pomp and
magnificence.

THE FOURTH FABLE. 203

When there came to Silvia's ears the
news that the fashion of dress was to be
changed, she was at once beset with fear
that the store of raiment she had lately
received from her husband would be
found of unfashionable shape and unfit
to be worn at the feast, and, in conse-
quence, fell into a melancholy humour,
neither eating nor sleeping, and making
the house resound with her sighs and
groans. The devil, who fathomed the
trouble in his wife's heart, feigned to
know nothing of it, and one day ad-
dressed her : c What is troubling you,
Silvia, that you look so unhappy ? Have
you no heart for the coming festival ? '
Silvia, seeing her opportunity, plucked
up courage and said : ( What is the fes-
tival to me ? How can I go there in
these old-fashioned clothes of mine ? I
am sure you will not force me thither
to be mocked at by the others.' Then
said Pancrazio to her : c Did I not give
you everything you would want for the
rest of your days? How comes it that

204 NIGHT THE SECOND.

you now ask me for more after agreeing
to the conditions I then made ? ' These
words only made Silvia weep the more,
and, bewailing her unhappy fate, cry out
that she could not go to the feast be-
cause she had no clothes fit to wear.
Then said the devil, * I gave you at first
all that was necessary for the rest of
your days, but I will once more gratify
your wishes. You may ask of me for
anything you want, and your request
shall be granted ; but never again. If,
after this, you make a like petition, the
issue will be something you will never
forget.'

Silvia straightway put off her peevish
humour, and wrote out another list of
braveries as long as the last, which Sig-
nor Pancrazio procured for her without
delay. In the course of time the ladies
of the city once more set to work to
make another change in the fashion of
dress, and once more Silvia found her-
self clad in dresses of out-worn cut. No
other lady could boast of jewels so costly,

THE FOURTH FABLE. 205

or of robes of such rich and sumptuous
web ; but this was no solace to her, and
she went mourning all day long, without
daring to make another appeal to her
husband, who, marking her tristful face,
and knowing'Vell enough what was vex-
ing her, said, ' Silvia, my love, why are
you so sad ? ' Then she took courage
and said, ' Is there not cause enough
for me to be sad, seeing that I have no
raiment in the new fashion, and that I
cannot show my face amongst the other
ladies of the city without their making
a mock of me, and bringing reproach up-
on you as well as upon myself? and the
respect and fidelity I have towards you
do not merit such a return of shame
and humiliation.' At these words the
devil was terribly wroth and said : * What
cause have you for complaint? Have
I not twice over given you all you have
asked for ? Your desires are insatiable,
and beyond my power to satisfy. I
will once more give you everything you
may demand, but I will straightway go

206 NIGHT THE SECOND.

away and you will never see my face
again.' The devil was as good as his
word, and, .after he had given Silvia a
goodly store of new garments, all after
the latest fashion, he left her without
taking leave of her, and went to Malphi,
where, for a diversion, he entered into
the body of the duke and tormented
him grievously.

Now it chanced that, soon after this,
Gasparino Boncio, the gallant who had
-acted at Pancrazio's nuptials as best man,
was forced to fly from his city on account
of some offence against good manners.
Wherefore he betook himself to Malphi,
where he managed to live by gambling
and by a lot of cunning tricks of which
he was master, and rumour would have
it that he was a man of parts, though he
was indeed nought but a sorry knave.
One day, when at the cards with some
gentlemen of the place, he went a step
too far, and roused their wrath so hotly
that, but for fear of the law, they would
certainly have made an end of him. One

THE FOURTH FABLE, 2O/

of these, smarting under some special
wrong, vowed that he would bring Mas-
ter Gasparino into such a plight as he
would never forget. And forthwith he
betook himself to the duke, and, having
made a profound obeisance, he said :
1 Your excellency, there is in this town
a man named Gasparino, who makes
boast that he can cast out evil spirits —
whether of this world or of the nether
one — which may have entered the bod-
ies of men ; therefore, methinks, you
would do wisely to bid him try his skill
to deliver you from your torment.' On
hearing these words the duke sent forth-
with for Gasparino, who, being sum-
moned, went into the duke's presence
at once.

' Signer Gasparino,' said the duke,
' they tell me you profess to be an exor-
cist of evil spirits. I, as no doubt you
have heard, am sorely tormented by
one of these, and I pledge my faith to
you that, if you will work your spells
upon him and drive him out, I will deal

208 NIGHT THE SECOND.

with you so that you may live for the
rest of your days free from care.' Gas-
parino was utterly confounded by this
speech, and, as soon as the duke was si-
lent, he began to stammer and to pro-
test loudly that he knew nought of such
matters, and had never boasted of any
such power ; but the gentleman, who
was standing by, came forward and said :
c Do you not remember, Signer Gaspa-
rino, that, on a certain day, you told me
this and that ? ' Gasparino persisted in
denying any such speech, and, while
they were wrangling together, the duke
broke in and said : * Come, come, hold
your peace, both of you ! As for you,
Master Gasparino, I give you three days
to work up your charms, and, if you can
deliver me from this misery, I promise
you the most beautiful castle in my do-
minions, and you may ask of me what-
ever you will. But, if you fail in this,
before eight days have passed I will have
you strangled between two of these col-
umns.'

THE FOURTH FABLE. 209

Gasparino, when he listened to the
duke's command, was utterly confounded
and filled with grief, and, having with-
drawn from the duke's presence, began
to ruminate day and night as to how
he might accomplish the task laid upon
him. On the day fixed for the incanta-
tion he went to the palace, and, having
ordered to be spread on the floor a large
carpet, began to conjure the evil spirit
to come out, and to cease his torment.
The devil, who was quite at his ease in
the duke's body, did not reply, but
breathed so strong a blast of wind
through the duke's throat that he was
like to choke him. When Gasparino
renewed his conjurations the devil cried
out: ' My friend, you can enjoy your
life ; why can't you leave me at peace
here, where I am very comfortable?
Your mummery is all in vain.' And
here the devil began to deride him.
But Gasparino was not to be daunted
by this, and for the third time he called
upon the devil to come out, asking him

210 NIGHT THE SECOND.

so many questions that at last he got to
know the evil spirit to be no other than
his whilom friend, Pancrazio Stornello.
' And I know you, too,' the devil went
on ; f you are Gasparino Boncio, my
very dear friend. Don't you remember
those merry nights we spent together ? '
' Alas ! my friend,' said Gasparino, ' why
have you come here to torment this poor
man ? ' ' That is my secret,' answered
the devil ; ' why do you refuse to go
away and leave me here, where I am
more at my ease than ever I was before ? "
But Gasparino went on with his ques-
tioning so long and so adroitly that he
induced the devil at last to tell him the
story of his wife's insatiable greed, of
the violent aversion he had conceived
for her thereanent, and how he had fled
from her and taken up his abode in the
body of the duke, and that no consid-
eration would induce him to return to
her. Having learned so much, Gaspa-
rino said : ' And now, my dear friend,
I want you to do me a favour.' f What

THE FOURTH FABLE. 211

may it be ? ' the devil inquired. * Noth-
ing more than to get you gone from
the body of this poor man.' c Friend
Gasparino,' quoth the devil, ' I never
set you down as a wise man, but this
request of yours tells me you are a
downright fool.' ' But I beg you, I
implore you for the sake of the merry
bouts we have enjoyed together, to do
as I ask,' said Gasparino. 'The duke
has heard that I have power to cast out
spirits, and has imposed this task upon
me. Unless I fulfil it I shall be hanged,
and you will be chargeable with my
death.' ' Pooh ! ' said the devil, c our
camaraderie lays no such duties upon
me. You may go to the lowest depths
of hell for all I care. Why didn't you
keep your tongue between your teeth,
instead of going about boasting of pow-
ers you do not possess ? ' And with this
he roared most horribly, and threw the
poor duke into a fit which nearly made
an end of him.

But after a little the duke came to

212 NIGHT THE SECOND.

himself again, and Gasparino thus ad-
dressed him : ' My lord, take courage ;
for I see a way of ridding you of this
evil spirit. I must ask you to com-
mand all the players of music in the
city to assemble at the palace to-morrow
morning, and at a set moment to strike
their instruments, while the bells all
ring loudly, and the gunners let off their
cannon as a sign of rejoicing for victory.
The more noise they make the better for
my purpose. The rest you may leave
to me.'

The next morning Gasparino went to
the palace, and duly began his incanta-
tions, and, as it had been settled, the
trumpets and cymbals and tambours
gave out their music, and the bells and
artillery clanged and roared so loud and
long that it seemed as if the uproar
would never cease. At last the devil
asked Gasparino, * Isn't there a hide-
ous medley of sound about the place ?
What is the meaning of it ? Ah, I begin
to hear it plain now ! ' ( Begin to hear

THE FOUR. TH FABLE. 2 1 3

it ! ' said Gasparino. ' Surely there has
been clamour enough for the last half-
hour to have deafened even you.' ' I
dare say,' the devil replied ; ' but you
must know that the bodies of you mor-
tals are gross and dull enough to shut
out the sound from the hearing of one
in my place ; but, tell me, what is the
reason of this noise ? ' < I'll tell you in
a very few words,' said Gasparino, f if in
the meantime you let the duke have a
little ease.' ' It shall be as you wish,'
said the devil. And then Gasparino
brought out his story.

1 You must know, my dear friend and
former comrade,' he began, { that it has
come to the duke's ears how you were
forced to run away from your wife on
account of the woes you suffered through
her greed for attire, and he has in con-
sequence invited her to Malphi. The
noise you hear is part of the rejoicing
of the city over her arrival.' f I see your
hand in this, honest Signor Gasparino,'
said the devil. ( Well, you have outdone

214 NIGHT THE SECOND.

me in cunning. Was there ever a loyal
friend? Was I not right in belittling
the claims of comradeship ? However,
you have won the game. The distaste
and horror in which I hold my wife are
so great that I will do your bidding and
betake myself elsewhere ; indeed, rather
than set eyes on her again, I prefer to de-
part for the nethermost hell. Farewell,
Gasparino, you will never see me or hear
of me again.'

Immediately after these words the
poor duke began to throttle and choke,
and his eyes rolled about in ghastly wise;
but these frightful tokens only gave warn-
ing that the evil spirit had at last taken
flight. Nothing remained to tell of his
presence save an appalling smell of sul-
phur. Gradually the duke came to
himself, and, when he had regained his
former health, he sent for Gasparino, and,
to prove his gratitude, gave him a stately
castle, and a great sum of money, and
a crowd of retainers to do him service.
Though assailed by the envy of certain

THE FOURTH FABLE. 2 1 5

of the courtiers, Gasparino lived happily
for many years ; but Silvia, when she saw
all the treasures her husband had given
her turn to smoke and ashes, lost her
wits, and died miserably.

The Trevisan told his story with great
wit, and the men greeted it with hearty
applause and laughter; but the ladies
demurred somewhat thereat, so that
the Signora, hearing them murmuring
amongst themselves while the men kept
on their merriment, commanded silence
and directed the Trevisan to give his
enigma, and he, without excusing himself
to the ladies for the sharp pricks against
their sex dealt out in his story, thus
began :

In our midst a being proud
Lives, with every sense endowed.
Keen his wit, though brainless he,
Reasoning with deep subtlety.
Headless, handless, tongueless too,
He kens our nature through and through.
Born but once and born for ever,
Death shaJI touch or mar him never.

2l6 NIGHT THE SECOND.

The abstruse riddle of the Trevisan
was no light task for the wit of the com-
pany, and it was in vain that each one
essayed its unravelling. At last the
Trevisan, seeing that his guesses were
all wide of the mark, said : " It does not
seem meet for me to perplex any longer
the ingenuity of this honourable com-
pany. By your leave I will now unfold
its meaning, unless you had rather wait
for some cunning wit to fathom it."
With one voice they prayed him to un-
veil its purport, and this he did in these
terms : " My enigma signifies nothing
else than the immortal soul of man,
which, being spiritual, has neither head
nor hands nor tongue, yet it makes its
working known to all, and, whether it
be judged in heaven or in hell, lives
eternally." This learned unfolding of
the Trevisan's obscure riddle pleased
the company vastly.

Inasmuch as the night was now far
spent, and the clamour of the cocks fore-
telling the dawn was heard, the Signora

THE FOUR TH FABLE. 2 1 7

made sign to Vicenza, who was bespoken
to tell the finishing story of the second
night, to begin her task. But Vicenza,
red in the face through choler at the
Trevisan's story, and not from bashful-
ness, cried out : " Signer Benedetto, I
looked for a better turn from you than
this, that you would aim at something
higher than the character of a mere railer
against women ; but since you take so
bitter a tone, meseems you must have
been vexed by some lady who has asked
more of you than you could give. Surely
you lack justice if you judge us all alike;
your eyes will tell you that some of us,
albeit all of the same flesh and blood, are
gentler and more worshipful than others.
If you rate us in such wise, wonder not
if some day you find your beauty marred
by some damsel's finger-nails. Then you
will sing your songs in vain."

To her the Trevisan replied : " I did
not tell my story to hurt the feelings of
anyone, nor for spite of my own ; but
to give counsel and warning to those

2l8 NIGHT THE SECOND.

ladies who may be going to marry, to
be modest and reasonable in the calls
they make on their husbands." " I care
nought what may have been your ob-
ject," said Vicenza, " nor do these ladies
either; but I will not sit silent and let
it be thought I allow these charges of
yours against women to have any worth.
I will tell you a story which you may
find to be one for your own edifica-
tion," and having made obeisance she
began.

THE FIFTH FABLE.

JHesser j$tmpltcto ot Easat fe enamoured of
©ilt'ola, tfje forife of ©ijfotta Scanferla, a
peasant, anfc fjafrino; 6een caugfjt fit fjer corn-
pang ta tll=!)ant3let) 6g f)er fjusbano therefor,

JNE cannot deny, dear ladies,
the gentle nature of love, but
love rarely accords a happy
issue to the enterprises it in-
flames us to undertake. And thus it
fell out in the case of the lovesick Mes-
ser Simplicio di Rossi, who, when h*

THE FIFTH FABLE. 2 1 9

flattered himself that he was about to
enjoy the person of the woman he de-
sired so ardently, had to fly from her
laden with as many buffets as he well
could carry. All this history I will duly
set forth, if, as is your gracious custom,
you will lend your ears to the fable I
purpose to relate to you.

In the village of Santa Eufemia, situ-
ated just below the plain of San Pietro,
in the territory of the famous and illus-
trious city of Padua, there lived, some
years ago, one Ghirotto Scanferla, a man
rich and influential enough for a man in
his station, but at the same time a fac-
tious, wrangling fellow, and he had for
a wife a young woman named Giliola,
who, albeit that she was peasant born,
was very fair and graceful. With her
Simplicio di Rossi, a citizen of Padua,
fell violently in love. Now it happened
that he had a house which stood not far
removed from that of Ghirotto, and he
was accustomed frequently to roam about
the neighbouring fields with his wife, a

220 NIGHT THE SECOND.

very beautiful lady, whom however he
held in but little esteem, although she
had many good qualities which ought to
have bound him to her. So great was
his passion for Giliola that he got no rest
day or night, but he let this passion lie
closely hidden in his heart, partly be-
cause he feared lest he might in any way
arouse the husband's wrath, partly on
account of Giliola's good name, and
partly for fear of giving offence to his
own wife. Now close to Messer Sim-
plicio's house there was a fountain from
which gushed forth a stream of water,
much sought by all the people round,
and so clear and delicious that even a
dead man might have been tempted to
drink thereof; and hither every morn-
ing and evening Giliola would repair,
with a copper pail, to fetch water for her
household needs. Love, who of a truth
spares nobody, spurred on Messer Sim-
plicio in his passion ; but he, knowing
what her life was and the good name she
bore, did not venture to manifest his

THE FIFTH FABLE. 221

love by any sign, and simply sustained
himself and comforted his heart by gaz-
ing now and then upon her beauty.
For her part she knew nothing of all
this, nor was she cognizant at all of his
admiration ; for, as became a woman of
honest life, she gave heed to nothing
else but to her husband and her house-
hold affairs.

Now one day it happened that Gili-
ola, when she went according to her
custom to fetch water, met Messer Sim-
plicio, to whom she said, in her simple,
courteous way, as any woman might,
' Good morrow, Signer,' and to this he
replied by uttering the word * Ticco/
His thought was to divert her somewhat
by a jest of this sort, and to make her
familiar with his humour. She, how-
ever, took no heed thereof, nor said
another word, but went straightway
about her business. And as time went
on the same thing happened over and
over again, Simplicio always giving back
the same word to Giliola's greeting. She

222 NIGHT THE SECOND.

had no suspicion of Simplicio's crafti-
ness, and always went back to her home
with her eyes cast down upon the
ground ; but after a time she determined
that she would tell her husband what
had befallen her. So one day, when
they were conversing pleasantly together,
she said to him, < Oh ! my husband,
there is something I should like to tell
you, something that perhaps will make
you laugh.' c And what may this thing
be ? ' inquired Ghirotto. f Every time
I go to the well to draw water,' said
Giliola, f I meet Messer Simplicio, and
when I give him the good morning he
answers to me " Ticco." Over and over
again I have pondered over this word,
but I cannot get at the meaning thereof.'
* And what answer did you give him ? '
said Ghirotto, and Giliola replied that
she had answered him nothing. * Well,'
said Ghirotto, f take care that when he
next says " Ticco " to you you answer
him " Tacco." See that you give good
heed to this thing I tell you, and be

THE FIFTH FABLE. 223

sure not to say another word to him, t
but come home according to your wont.'
Giliola went at the usual time to the
well to fetch the water, and met Messer
Simplicio and gave him good day, and
he, as hitherto, answered her { Ticco.'
Then Giliola, according to her husband's
directions, replied t Tacco,' whereupon
Messer Simplicio, suddenly inflamed,
and deeming that he had at last made
his passion known to her, and that he
might now have his will of her, took
further courage and said, ' And when
shall I come ? ' But Giliola, as her hus-
band had instructed her, answered noth-
ing, but made her way home forthwith,
and being questioned by him how the
affair had gone, she told him how she
had carried out everything he had di-
rected her to do ; how Messer Simplicio
had asked her when he might come, and
how she had given him no reply.

Now Ghirotto, though he was only a
peasant, was shrewd enough, and at once
grasped the meaning of Messer Simpli-

224 NIGHT THE SECOND.

cio's watchword, which perturbed him
mightily ; for it struck him that this word
meant more than mere trifling.1 So he
said to his wife, * If the next time you
go to the well he should ask of you,
" When shall I come ? " you must an-
swer him, " This evening." The rest
you can leave to me.'

The next day, when Giliola went ac-
cording to her wont to draw water at the
well, she found there Messer Simplicio,
who was waiting for her with ardent
longing, and greeted him with her ac-
customed * Good morning, Signer.' To
this the gallant answered * Ticco,' and
she followed suit with c Tacco.' Then
he added, f When shall I come ? ' to
which she replied, c This evening.' c Let
it be so then,' he said. And when Gili-
ola returned to her house she said to her
husband, £ I have done everything as
you directed.' * What did he answer ? '
said Ghirotto. c He said he would
come this evening,' his wife replied.

1 Orig., infilzar perle al scuro.

THE FIFTH FABLE. 22$

Now Ghirotto, who by this time had
got a bellyful of something else besides
vermicelli and maccaroni, spake thus to
his wife : £ Giliola, let us go now and
measure a dozen sacks of oats, for I will
make believe that I am going to the mill,
and when Messer Simplicio shall come,
you must make him welcome and give
him honourable reception. But before
this, have ready an empty sack beside
those which will be full of oats, and as
soon as you hear me come into the
house make him hide himself in the sack
thus prepared, and leave the rest to me.'
' But,' said Giliola, ( we have not in the
house enough sacks to carry out the plan
you propose.' ' Then send our neigh-
bour Cia,' said the husband, f to Messer
Simplicio to beg him to lend us two, and
she can also let it be known that I have
business at the mill this evening.' And
all these directions were diligently car-
ried out. Messer Simplicio, who had
given good heed to Giliola's words, and
had marked, moreover, that she had

226 NIGHT THE SECOND.

sent to borrow two of his sacks, believed
of a truth that the husband would be
going to the mill in the evening, and
found himself at the highest pitch of fe-
licity and the happiest man in the world,
fancying the while that Giliola was as
hotly inflamed with love for him as he
was for her ; but the poor wight had no
inkling of the conspiracy which was be-
ing hatched for his undoing, otherwise
he would assuredly have gone to work
with greater caution than he used.

Messer Simplicio had in his poultry
yard good store of capons, and he took
two of the best of these and sent them
by his body-servant to Giliola, enjoin-
ing her to let them be ready cooked
by the time when he should be with
her according to their agreement. And
when night had come he stole secretly
out and betook himself to Ghirotto's
house, where Giliola gave him a most
gracious reception. But when he saw
the oat-sacks standing there he was
somewhat surprised, for he expected that

THE FIFTH FABLE. 22?

the husband would have taken them to
the mill ; so he said to Giliola, * Where
is Ghirotto ? I thought he had gone to
the mill, but I see the sacks are still
here ; so I hardly know what to think.'
Then Giliola replied, ' Do not murmur,
Messer Simplicio, or have any fear.
Everything will go well. You must
know that, just at vesper-time, my hus-
band's brother-in-law came to the house
and brought word that his sister was
lying gravely ill of a persistent fever, and
was not like to see another day. Where-
fore he mounted his horse and rode away
to see her before she dies.' Messer
Simplicio, who was indeed as simple as
his name imports, took all this for the
truth and said no more.

Whilst Giliola was busy cooking the
capons and getting ready the table, lo
and behold ! Ghirotto her husband ap-
peared in the court-yard, and Giliola, as
soon as she saw him, feigned to be grief-
stricken and terrified, and cried out,
' Woe to us, wretches that we are ! We

228 NIGHT THE SECOND.

are as good as dead, both of us ; ' and
without a moment's hesitation she or-
dered Messer Simplicio to get into the
empty sack which was lying there ; and
when he had got in — and he was might-
ily unwilling to enter it — she set the
sack with Messer Simplicio inside it be-
hind the others which were full of oats,
and waited till her husband should come
in. And when Ghirotto entered and
saw the table duly set and the capons
cooking in the pot, he said to his wife :
f What is the meaning of this sumptu-
ous supper which you have prepared
for me ? ' and Giliola made answer : £ I
thought that you must needs come back
weary and worn out at midnight, and,
In order that you might fortify and re-
fresh yourself somewhat after the fatigues
you so constantly have to undergo, I
wished to let you have something suc-
culent for your meal.' * By my faith,'
said Ghirotto, 'you have done well, for
I am somewhat sick and can hardly wait*
to take my supper before I go to bed,

THE FIFTH FABLE. 229

and moreover I want to be astir in good
time to-morrow morning to go to the
mill. But before we sit down to supper
I want to see whether the sacks we got
ready for the mill are all in order and
of just weight.' And with these words
he went up to the sacks and began to
count them, and, finding there were
thirteen, he feigned to have made a mis-
count of them, and began to count them
over again, and still he found there were
thirteen of them ; so he said to his wife :
* Giliola, what is the meaning of this ?
How is it that I find here thirteen sacks
while we only got ready twelve ? Where
does the odd one come from ? ' And
Giliola answered : ' Yes, of a certainty,
when we put the oats into the sacks
there were only twelve, and how this
one comes to be here I cannot tell.'

Inside the sack, meantime, Messer
Simplicio, who knew well enough that
there were thirteen sacks on account of
his being there, kept silent as a mouse
and went on muttering paternosters be-

230 NIGHT THE SECOND.

neath his breath, at the same time curs-
ing Giliola, and his passion for her, and
his own folly in having put faith in her.
If he could have cleared himself from
his present trouble by flight, he would
have readily taken to his heels, for he
feared the shame that might arise there-
anent, rather than the loss. But Ghi-
rotto, who knew well enough what was
inside the sack, took hold of it and
dragged it outside the door, which he
had by design left open, in order that
the poor wretch inside the sack, after he
should have been well drubbed, might
get out of the sack and have free field
to go whithersoever he listed. Then
Ghirotto, having caught up a knotty
stick which he had duly prepared for
the purpose, began to belabour him so
soundly that there was not a square inch
of his carcass which was not thrashed
and beaten ; indeed, a little more would
have made an end of Messer Simplicio.
And if it had not happened that the
wife, moved by pity or by fear lest her

THE FIFTH FABLE. 231

husband should have the sin of murder
on his soul, wrenched the cudgel out
of Ghirotto's hand, homicide might well
have been the issue.

At last, when Ghirotto had given over
his work and had gone away, Messer
Simplicio slunk out of his sack, and,
aching from head to foot, made his way
home, half dreading the while that Ghi-
rotto with his stick was close behind
him ; and in the meantime Ghirotto and
his wife, after eating a good supper at
Messer Simplicio's cost, went to bed.
And after a few days had passed, Giliola,
when she went to the well, saw Sim-
plicio, who was walking up and down the
terrace in his garden, and with a merry
glance greeted him, saying, * Ticco, Mes-
ser Simplicio ; ' but he, who still felt the
pain of the bruises he had gotten on
account of this word, only replied :

Neither for your good morning, nor for your tic nor

your tac,
Will you catch me again, my lady, inside your sack.

232 NIGHT THE SECOND.

When Giliola heard this she was
struck silent, and went back to her house
with her face red for shame, and Messer
Simplicio, after the sorry usage he had
received, changed his humour and gave
the fullest and most loving service to
his own wife, whom he had hitherto dis-
liked, keeping his eyes and his hands off
other men's goods, so that he might not
again be treated to a like experience.

When Vicenza had made an end of
her story, all the ladies cried out with
one voice : "If the Trevisan treated
badly the women he dealt with in his
fable, Vicenza has in hers given the men
yet worse measure in letting Messer
Simplicio be thus beaten and mauled in
the mishandling he got." And while
they were all laughing, one at this thing
and another at that, the Signora made
a sign for silence in order that Vicenza
might duly propound her enigma ; and
the latter, feeling that she had more
than avenged the insult put upon her
sex by the Trevisan, gave her enigma
in these terms :

THE FIFTH FABLE. 233

I blush to tell my name aright,
Rough to touch, and rude to sight.
Wide and toothless is my mouth,
Red of hue my lips uncouth ;
Black all round, and from below
Ardour oft will make me glow ;
Rouse my passion closely pent,
Make me foam till I am spent.
A scullion base may e'en abuse me,
And all men at their pleasure use me.

The men were hard pressed to keep
from laughing when they saw the ladies
cast down their eyes into their laps,
smiling somewhat the while. But the
Signora, to whom modest speech was
more pleasing than aught that savoured
of ribaldry, bent a stern and troubled
glance uponVicenza and thus addressed
her : " If I had not too much respect
for these gentlemen, I would tell you
to your face what really is the meaning
of this lewd and immodest riddle of
yours ; but I will forgive you this once,
only take good heed that you offend
not again in such fashion ; for, if you
should, I will let you feel and know

234 NIGHT THE SECOND.

what my power over you really is."
Then Vicenza, blushing like a morning
rosebud at hearing herself thus shame-
fully reproved, plucked up her courage
and gave answer in these terms ; " Sig-
nora, If I have uttered a single word
which has offended your ears, or the
ears of any of the modest gentlewomen
I see around me, I should assuredly
deserve not only your reproof, but se-
vere chastisement to boot. But, seeing
that my words were in themselves sim-
ple and blameless, they scarcely merited
so bitter a censure ; for the interpreta-
tion of my riddle, which has been ap-
prehended by you in a mistaken sense,
will show my words to be true and
prove my innocence at the same time.
The thing which my enigma describes
is a stockpot, which is black all round,
and when fiercely heated by the fire
boils over and scatters foam on all
sides. It has a wide mouth and no
teeth, and takes everything that may
be thrown into it, and any scullion may

THE FIFTH FABLE. 235

take out what he will when the dinner
is being prepared for his master."

When they heard from Vicenza this
modest solution of her riddle, all the
listeners, men as well as women, gave
her hearty praise, deeming the while
that she had been wrongfully reproved
by the Signora. And now, because the
hour was late, and the rosy tints of
morning already visible in the sky, the
Signora, without excusing herself in any
way for the scolding she had given Vi-
cenza, dismissed the company, bidding
them all under pain of her displeasure
to assemble in good time the following
evening.

STfje Entj of tfje Stecmli #tgf)t.

tbe TTbirfc.

tbc

ILREADY the sister of the
sun had begun her reign in
the sky over the forests and
the gloomy gorges of the
hills, and showed her golden circle over
the half of heaven ; already the car of
Phoebus had sunk beneath the western
wave, the moving stars had lighted their
lamps, and the pretty birds, ceasing their
pleasant songs and bickerings, sought re-
pose in their nests set amongst the green
boughs, when the ladies and the gallant
youths as well met on the third evening
in the accustomed spot to renew their
story-telling. And as soon as they were
all seated according to their rank, the
Signora Lucretia commanded that the
vase should be brought forth as before,
and in it she caused to be placed the
239

240 NIGHT THE THIRD.

names of five damsels, who, according
to the order determined by lot, should
that evening tell in turn their stories.
The first name which was drawn from
the vase was that of Cateruzza, the sec-
ond that of Arianna, the third that of
Lauretta, the fourth that of Alteria, and
the fifth that of Eritrea. Then the Sig-
nora gave the word for the Trevisan to
take his lute, and Molino his viol, and
for all the rest to tread a measure to
Bembo's leading. And when the dance
had come to an end, and the sweet lyre
and the divine strings of the hollow lute
were silent, the Signora directed Lau-
retta to begin her song, and she, anxious
to obey the Signora in everything, took
hands with her companions, and having
made respectful salutation, sang in clear
and mellow tone the following song :

SONG.

Lady, while thy face I scan,
Where love smiling holds his court,
Lo ! from out your beauteous eyes

STRAPAROL/t. 241

Light so radiant doth arise,
That it shows us Paradise.

All my sighs and all my tears,
Which I foolish shed in vain ;
All the anguish of my heart,
All my hidden woe and smart,
With my faint desire have part.

Then to love's last mood I fly,
Recking nought that earth and slcy
Stand beneath me and above ;
So my soul is drawn by love
To the heights of passion free,
And I learn that fate's decree
Binds me, whatsoe'er betide,
Dead or living, to thy side.

After Lauretta and her companions
had given sign by their silence that their
song had come to an end, the Signora,
bending her gaze upon the fair and open
countenance of Cateruzza, said that the
task of making a beginning of the story-
telling of that third evening fell upon her,
and Cateruzza, with a becoming blush
upon her cheek and laughing lightly,
began in these terms.

242 NIGHT THE THIRD.

THE FIRST FABLE.

simple fellofa), natneti Peter, gete frack f)i0 fai'tg
fcg tfte Jjelp of a tunnjj fisfj fofjicf) fje sparefc
after fja&mg taken it m ijis net, anti like&rise
faring for !)tB toife a king's tiaugfjter.

IHERE is proof enough, dear
ladies, both in the chronicles
of the past and in the doings
of our own day, that a fool,
whether by lucky accident or by sheer
force of blundering, may sometimes score
a success where a wise man might fail.
Therefore it has come into my mind to
tell you the story of one of these fools,
who, through the issue of a very fool-
ish deed, got for his wife the daughter of
a king and became a wise man himself
into the bargain.

In the Ligurian Sea there is an island
called Capraia, which, at the time I am
describing, was ruled by King Luciano.
Amongst his subjects was a poor widow

THE FIRST FABLE. 2 43

named Isotta, who lived with her only
son Peter, a fisher-lad, but from Peter's
fishing she would scarce have kept body
and soul together, for he was a poor
silly creature known to all the neighbours
as Peter the Fool. Though he went
fishing every day he never caught any-
thing, but in spite of his ill-success he
would always come up from his boat
shouting and bellowing so that all the
town might hear him : * Mother, mother,
bring out your tubs and your buckets
and your pails ; bring them out all, great
and small, for Peter has caught a boat-
ful of fish.' The poor woman soon got
to know the value of Peter's bragging,
but in spite of this she always prepared
the vessels, only to find herself jeered
at by the silly youth, who, as soon as
he came near, would thrust out his long
tongue in ridicule, and otherwise mock
at her.

Now it chanced that the widow's cot-
tage stood just opposite to the palace
of King Luciano, who had only one

244 NIGHT THE THIRD.

child, a pretty graceful girl about ten
years old, Luciana by name. She, it
happened, was looking out of the win-
dow of the palace one day when Peter
came back from fishing, crying out to
his mother to bring out her tubs and
her buckets and her pails to hold the
fish with which he was laden, and so
much was she diverted at the silly antics
of the fool, that it seemed likely she
would die with laughing. Peter, when
he saw that he was made sport of, grew
very angry, and threw some ugly words
at her, but the more he raged the more
she — after the manner of wilful children
— laughed and made mock at him.
Peter, however, went on with his fishing
day after day, and played the same trick
on his mother every evening on his re-
turn ; but at last fortune favoured him,
and he caught a fine tunny, very big and
fat. Overjoyed at his good luck, he
began to shout and cry out over and
over again, ' Mother and I will have a
good supper to-night,' when, to his

THE FIRST FABLE. 245

amazement, he heard the tunny which
he had just caught begin to speak : c Ah !
my dear brother, I pray you of your
courtesy to give me my life. When
once you have eaten me, what farther
benefit do you think you will get from
me ? but if you will let me live there is
no telling what service I may not render
you.' But Peter, whose thoughts just
then were set only on his supper, hoisted
the fish on his shoulders and set off
homewards ; but the tunny still kept on
beseeching his captor to spare his life,
promising him first as many fish as he
could want, and finally to do him any
favour he might demand. Peter was not
hard-hearted, and, though a fool, fancied
he might profit by sparing the fish, so
he listened to the tunny's petition and
threw him back into the sea. The fish,
sensible of Peter's kindness, and not
wishing to seem ungrateful, told Peter
to get into his boat again and tilt it over
so that the water could run in. This
advice Peter at once followed, and, hav-

246 NIGHT THE THIRD.

ing leant over on one side, he let the boat
be half filled with water, which brought
in with it such a huge quantity of fish
that the boat was in danger of sinking.
Peter was well nigh beside himself with
joy when he saw what had happened,
and, when he had taken as many fish as
he could carry, he betook himself home-
wards, crying out, as was his wont, when
he drew near to the cottage : c Mother,
mother, bring out your tubs and your
buckets and your pails ; bring out them
all, great and small, for Peter has caught
a boatful of fish.' At first poor Isotta,
thinking that he was only playing his old
fool's game, took no heed ; but at last,
hearing him cry out louder than ever,
and fearing that he might commit some
greater folly if he should not find the
vessels prepared as usual, got them all
ready. What was her surprise to see
her simpleton of a son at last coming
back with a brave spoil ! The Princess
Luciana was at the palace window, and
hearing Peter bellowing louder than ever,

THE FIRST FABLE. 247

she laughed louder than ever, so that
Peter was almost mad with rage, and
having left his fish, he rushed back to
the seashore, and called aloud on the
tunny to come and help him. The fish,
hearing Peter's voice, came to the marge
of the shore, and putting his nose up
out of the waves, asked what service was
required of him. * What service ! ' cried
Peter. 'Why I would that Luciana,
that saucy minx, the daughter of our
king, should find herself with child at
once.'

What followed was a proof that the
tunny had not made an empty promise
to Peter, for before many days had passed
the figure of the young girl, who was not
twelve years old, began to show signs
of maternity. Her mother, when she
marked this, fell into great trouble, but
she could not believe that a child of
eleven could be pregnant, and rather set
down the swelling to the working of an
incurable disease; so she brought Luci-
ana to be examined by some women ex-

248 NIGHT THE THIRD.

pert in such cases, and these, as soon as
they saw the girl, declared that she was
certainly with child. The queen, over-
whelmed by this terrible news, told it
also to the king, and he, when he heard
it, cried aloud for death rather than such
ignominy. Strict inquisition was made
to discover who could have violated the
child, but nothing was found out ; so
Luciano, to hide her dire disgrace, de-
termined to have his daughter secretly
killed.

The queen, on hearing this, begged
her husband to spare the unfortunate
Luciana till the child should be born,
and then do with her what he would.
The king, moved with compassion for
his only daughter, gave way so far ; and
in due time Luciana was delivered of a
boy so fine and beautiful that the king
could no longer harbour the thought of
putting them away, but, on the other
hand, gave order to the queen that the
boy should be well tended till he was a
year old. When this time was com-

THE FIRST FABLE. 249

pleted the child had become beautiful
beyond compare, and then it came into
the king's mind that he would again
make a trial to find out who the father
might be. He issued a proclamation
that every man in the city who had
passed fourteen years should, under pain
of losing his head, present himself at
the palace bearing in his hand some fruit
or flower which might attract the child's
attention. On the appointed day, in
obedience to the proclamation, all those
summoned came to the palace, bearing,
this man one thing and that man another,
and, having passed before the king, sat
down according to their rank.

Now it happened that a certain young
man as he was betaking himself to the
palace met Peter, and said to him, * Peter,
why are you not going to the palace like
all the others to obey the order of the
king ? ' ' What should I do in such a
crowd as that? ' said Peter. ' Cannot you
see I am a poor naked fellow, and have
hardly a rag to my back, and yet you ask

250 NIGHT THE THIRD.

me to push myself in amongst all those
gentlemen and courtiers ? No.' Then
the young man, laughing at him, said,
f Come with me, and I will give you a
coat. Who knows whether the child may
not turn out to be yours ? ' In the end
Peter let himself be persuaded to go to
the young man's house, and having put
on a decent coat, they went together to
the palace ; but when they arrived there
Peter's heart again failed him, and he hid
himself behind a door. By this time all
the men had presented themselves to the
king, and were seated in the hall. Then
Luciano commanded the nurse to bring
in the child, thinking that if the father
should be there the sense of paternity
would make him give some sign. As the
nurse carried the child down the hall
everyone, as he passed, began to caress
him and to give him, this one a fruit and
that one a flower ; but the infant, with
a wave of his hand, refused them all.
When the nurse passed by the entrance
door the child began to laugh and crow,

THE FIRST FABLE.

and threw himself forward so lustily that
he almost jumped out of the woman's
arms, but she, not knowing that any-
one was there, walked on down the hall.
When she came back to the same place,
the child was more delighted than ever,
laughing and pointing with his finger to
the door; so that the king, who had
already noticed the child's actions, called
to the nurse, and asked her who was be-
hind the door. The nurse, being some-
what confused, said that surely some
beggar must be hidden there. By the
king's command Peter was at once haled
forth, and everybody recognized the town
fool ; but the child, who was close to him,
stretched out his arms and clasped Peter
round the neck, and kissed him lovingly.
The king, recognizing the sign, was
stricken to the heart with grief, and hav-
ing discharged the assembly, commanded
that Peter and Luciana and the child
should be put to death forthwith.

The queen, though assenting to this
doom, was fearful lest the public execu-

252 NIGHT THE THIRD.

tion of the victims might draw down upon
the king the anger of the people ; so she
persuaded him to have made a huge cask
into which the three might be put and
cast into the sea to drift at random ; then,
at least, no one might witness their dying
agony. This the king agreed to ; and
when the cask was made, the condemned
ones were put therein, with a basket of
bread and a flask of wine, and a drum
of figs for the child, and thrust out into
the rough sea, with the expectation that
the waves would soon dash it to pieces
against the rocks ; but this was not to
be their fate.

Peter's poor old mother, when she
heard of her son's misfortune, died of
grief in a few days ; and the unhappy
Luciana, tossed about by the cruel waves,
and seeing neither sun nor moon, would
have welcomed a similar fate. The child,
since she had no milk to give it, had to
be soothed to sleep with now and then a
fig ; but Peter seemed to care for noth-
ing, and ate the bread and drank the wine

THE FIRS T FABLE. 253

steadily, laughing the while. f Alas !
alas ! ' cried Luciana in despair, * you care
nothing for this evil which you have
brought upon me, a poor innocent girl.
You eat and drink and laugh without
a thought of the danger around us.'
* Why,' replied Peter, 'this misfortune is
more your own fault than mine. If you
had not mocked me so, it would never
have happened; but do not lose heart,
our troubles will soon be over.' ' I be-
lieve that,' cried Luciana, cfor the cask
will soon be split on a rock, and then
we must all be drowned.' * No, no,' said
Peter, ' calm yourself. I have a secret,
and were you to know what it is, you
would be vastly surprised and vastly de-
lighted too, I believe.' ' What secret can
you know,' said Luciana, * which will
avail us in such danger as this ? ' { I will
soon tell you,' Peter replied. ' I have a
faithful servant, a great fish, who will do
me any service I ask of him, and there
is nothing he cannot do. I may as well
tell you it was through his working that

254 NIGHT THE THIRD.

you became with child/ ' That I cannot
believe,' said Luciana ; ' and what may
this fish of yours be called?' c His
name is Signor Tunny,' replied Peter.
c Then,' said Luciana, f to put your fish
to the test, I will ask you to transfer to
me the power you exercise over him,
and to command him to do my bidding
instead of yours.' c Be it as you will,'
said Peter ; and without more ado he
called the tunny, who at once rose up
near the cask, whereupon Peter com-
manded him to do everything that Lu-
ciana might require of him. She at
once exercised her power over the fish
by ordering him to make the waves cast
the cask ashore in a fair safe cleft in the
rocks on an island, a short sail from
her father's kingdom. As soon as the
fish had worked her will so far, she laid
other and much harder tasks upon him :
one was to change Peter from the ugly
fool that he was into a clever, handsome
gallant ; another was, to have built for
her forthwith a rich and sumptuous pal-

THE FIRST F4BLE.

ace, with lofty halls and chambers, and
girt with carven terraces. Within the
court there was to be laid out a beautiful
garden, full of trees which should bear,
instead of fruit, pearls and precious
stones, and in the midst of it two foun-
tains, one of the freshest water and the
other of the finest wine. All these won-
ders were wrought by the fish almost as
soon as Luciana had spoken.

Now all this time the king and the
queen were in deep misery in thinking
of the cruel death they had contrived for
Luciana and her child, how they had
given their own flesh and blood to be
eaten by the fishes ; therefore, to find
some solace in their woe, they deter-
mined to go to Jerusalem and to visit
the Holy Land. So they ordered a ship
to be put in order for them, and fur-
nished with all things suited to their
state. They set sail with a favouring
wind, and before they had gone a hun-
dred miles they came in sight of an is-
land upon which they could see a state!)

2 $6 NIGHT THE THIRD.

palace, built a little above the level of
the sea. Seeing that this palace was so
fair and sumptuous, and standing, more-
over, within Luciano's kingdom, they
were seized with a longing to view it
more closely ; so, having put into a ha-
ven, they landed on the island. Before
they had come to the palace Luciana
and Peter saw and recognized them, and,
having gone forth to meet them, greeted
them with a cordial welcome, but the
king and queen did not know their hosts
for the great change which had come
over them. The guests were taken first
into the palace, which they examined in
every part, praising loudly its great
beauty, and then they were led by a se-
cret staircase into the garden, the splen-
dour of which pleased them so amazingly
that they swore they had never at any
time before looked upon a place so de-
lightful. In the centre of this garden
there stood a noble tree, which bore on
one of its branches three golden apples.
These the keeper of the garden was

THE FIRST FABLE.

charged to guard jealously against rob-
bers, and now, by some secret working
which I cannot unravel, the finest of
these apples was transported into the
folds of the king's robe about his bosom,
and there hidden. Luciano and the
queen were about to take . their leave
when the keeper approached and said to
Luciana, c Madam, the most beautiful of
the three golden apples is missing, and I
can find no trace of the thief.'

Luciana forthwith gave orders that the
whole household should be searched,
one by one, for such a loss as this was
no light matter. The keeper, after he
had searched thoroughly everyone, came
back and told Luciana that the apple
was nowhere to be found. At these
words Luciana fell into great confusion,
and, turning to the king, said: 'Your
majesty must not be wroth with me if I
ask that even you allow yourself to be
searched, for I prize the golden apple
that is lost almost as highly as my life.'
The king, unsuspicious of any trick, and

258 NIGHT THE THIRD.

sure of his innocence, straightway loos-
ened his robe, and lo ! the golden apple
fell from it to the ground.

The king stood as one dazed, igno-
rant as to how the golden apple could
have come into his robe, and Luciana
spoke : , * Sire, we have welcomed you to
our house with all the worship fitting to
your rank, and now, as a recompense,
you would privily rob our garden of its
finest fruit. Meseems you have proved
yourself very ungrateful.' The king, in
his innocence, attempted to prove to her
that he could not have taken the apple,
and Luciana, seeing his confusion, knew
that the time had come for her to speak,
and reveal herself to her father. c My
lord,' she said, with the tears in her eyes,
1 1 am Luciana, your hapless daughter,
whom you sentenced to a cruel death
along with my child and Peter the fisher-
boy. Though I bore a child, I was
never unchaste. Here is the boy, and
here is he whom men were wont to call
Peter the Fool. You wonder at this

THE FIRST FABLE. 259

change. It has all been brought about
by the power of a marvellous fish whose
life Peter spared when he had caught
it in his net. By this power Peter has
been turned into the wisest of men, and
the palace you see has been built. In
the same way I became pregnant with-
out knowledge of a man, and the golden
apple was conveyed into the folds of
your robe. I am as innocent of un-
chastity as you are of theft.'

When the king heard these words
his eyes were opened, and he knew his
child. Then, weeping with joy, they
embraced each other, and all were glad
and happy. After spending a few days
on the island, they all embarked and re-
turned together to Capraia, where with
sumptuous feastings and rejoicings Peter
was duly married to Luciana, and lived
with her in great honour and content-
ment, until Luciano died, and then he
became king in his stead.

The story of Cateruzza had at one
time moved the ladies to tears ; but,

260 NIGHT THE THIRD.

when its happy issue was made known
to them, they rejoiced and thanked God
therefor. Then the Signora, when Ca-
teruzza had ended, commanded her to
continue in the order they had followed
hitherto, and she, not willing to hold
in suspense the attention of her hearers,
smilingly proposed to them the follow-
ing enigma :

Sir Redman stands behind a tree,
Now hidden, now in sight is he.
To him four runners speed along,
Bearing a warrior huge and strong.
Two darts into the trunk he wings,
And Redman from his lair upsprings,
And smites him from behind with skill ;
Thus ten little men one giant kill.
Now he who shall this speech unfold,
Shall be a witty rogue and bold.

Cateruzza's graceful and ingenious
enigma was received by the whole com-
pany with applause. Many interpreta-
tions were put forth ; but none came so
near the mark as Lauretta : " Our sister's
enigma can have but one meaning — the

THE FIRST FABLE. 26l

wild bull of the forest," she said. " He
has four runners to carry his huge bulk.
The sight of a red rag maddens him, and
thinking to rend it, he strikes his horns
into the tree. Straightway the hunts-
man, who was hidden behind the trunk,
comes forth and kills him with a dart
sped by ten little men, that is, the ten
fingers of his two hands."

This speedy solution of her riddle
raised an angry humour in Cateruzza's
heart, for she had hoped it might prove
beyond the wit of any ; but she had
not reckoned for Lauretta's quickness.
The Signora, who perceived that the two
were fain to wrangle, called for silence,
and gave the word to Arianna to begin
a story which should please them all,
and the damsel, somewhat bashful, began
as follows :

262 NIGHT THE THIRD.

THE SECOND FABLE.

Balfreno, l&ing of &unte, fjab tfoo sans, one
calico Eigttco ano % otfjer ILifooretto. STfje
latter aftertoarog inas fenofon as porcarollo,
antj in tfjc enlj bjon for ^ts foife 38ellt0anora,
tfjc Ijaug^tn; of attarante, ISttnfl of 2Sama0cu0.

IT is no light matter for the
steersman, let him be ever so
watchful, to bring his tempest-
strained bark safely into a
sheltered port when he may be vexed
by envious and contrary fortune, and
tossed about amongst the hard and
ragged rocks. And so it happened to
Livoretto, son of the great King of
Tunis, who, after many dangers hardly
to be believed, heavy afflictions, and
lengthened fatigues, succeeded at last,
through the valour of his spirit, in
trampling under foot his wretched for-
tune, and in the end reigned peacefully
over his kingdom in Cairo. All this I

THE SECOND FABLE. 263

shall make abundantly clear in the fable
I am about to relate to you.

In Tunis, a stately city on the coast
of Africa, there reigned, not long ago, a
famous and powerful king named Dal-
freno. He had to wife a beautiful and
wise lady, and by her begot two sons,
modest, well-doing and obedient in
everything to their father, the elder
being named Listico, and the younger Li-
voretto. Now it happened that by royal
decree, as well as by the approved usage
of the state, these youths were barred in
the succession to their father's throne,
which ran entirely in the female line.
Wherefore the king, when he saw that he
was by evil fortune deprived of female
issue, and was assured by knowledge of
himself that he was come to an age when
he could hardly expect any further pro-
geny, was sorely troubled, and felt his
heart wrung thereanent with unbounded
grief. And his sorrow was all the heavier
because he was haunted by the dread that
after his death his sons might be looked

264 NIGHT THE THIRD.

at askance, and evilly treated, and driven
with ignominy from his kingdom.

The unhappy king, infected by these
dolorous humours, and knowing not
where might lie any remedy therefor,
turned to the queen, whom he loved
very dearly, and thus addressed her :
' Madam, what shall we do with these
sons of ours, seeing that we are bereft
of all power to leave them heirs to our
kingdom both by the law and by the
ancient custom of the land ? ' The saga-
cious queen at once made answer to him
in these words : ( Sire, it seems to me
that, as you have a greater store of riches
than any other king in the world, you
should send them away into some foreign
country where no man would know them,
giving them first a great quantity of
money and jewels. In such case they
may well find favour in the sight of some
well-disposed sovereign, who will see
that no ill befall them. And if (which
may God forbid) they should happen to
come to want, no one will know whose

THE SECOND FABLE. 265

sons they are. They are young, fair
to look upon, of good address, high-
spirited, and on the alert for every hon-
ourable and knightly enterprise, and let
them go where they will they will scarcely
find any king or prince or great lord who
will not love them and set great store
upon them for the sake of the rich gifts
which nature has lavished upon them.'
This answer of the prudent queen ac-
corded fully with the humour of King
Dalfreno,and having summoned into his
presence his sons Listico and Livoret-to,
he said to them : f My well-beloved sons,
you must by this time know that, after
I am dead, you will have no chance of
succeeding to the sovereignty of this my
kingdom ; not, indeed, on account of
your vices or from your ill manner of
living, but because it has been thus
determined by law and by the ancient
custom of the country. You being men,
created by mother nature and ourselves,
and not women, are barred from all claim.
Wherefore your mother and I, for the

266 NIGHT THE THIRD.

benefit and advantage of you both, have
determined to let you voyage into some
strange land, taking with you jewels and
gems and money in plenty ; so that when-
ever you may light upon some honour-
able position you may gain your living in
honourable wise, and do credit to us at
the same time. And for this reason I
look that you shall show yourselves obe-
dient to our wishes.'

Listico and Livoretto were as much
pleased at this proposition as the king
and the queen themselves had been, be-
cause both one and other of the young
men desired ardently to see new lands
and to taste the pleasures of the world.
It happened that the queen (as is not
seldom the way with mothers) loved
the younger son more tenderly than she
loved the elder, and before they took
their departure she called him aside and
gave him a prancing high-mettled horse,
flecked with spots, with a small shapely
head, and high courage shining in its
eye. Moreover, in addition to all these

THE SECOND FABLE. 267

good qualities with which it was en-
dowed, it was gifted with magic powers,
but this last fact the queen told only to
Livoretto, her younger son.

As soon, then, as the two sons had
received their parents' benediction, and
secured the treasure prepared for them,
they departed secretly together ; and after
they had ridden for many days without
lighting upon any spot which pleased
them, they began to be sorely troubled
at their fate. Then Livoretto spoke and
addressed his brother : * We have all this
time ridden in one another's company,
and narrowly searched the country with-
out having wrought any deed which could
add aught to our repute. Wherefore it
seems to me wiser (supposing what I pro-
pose contents you also) that we should
separate one from the other, and that
each one should go in search of adven-
tures for himself.'

Listico, having taken thought of his
brother's proposition, agreed thereto, and
then, after they had warmly embraced

268 NIGHT THE THIRD.

and kissed each other, they bade farewell
and went their several ways. Listico, of
whom nothing more was ever heard, took
his way towards the West, while Livo-
retto journeyed into the East. And it
happened that, after he had consumed a
great space of time in going from one
place to another, and seen almost every
country under the sun, and spent all the
jewels and the money and the other treas-
ures his good father had given him, save
and except the magic horse, Livoretto
found himself at last in Cairo, the royal
city of Egypt, which was at that time
under the rule of a sultan whose name
was Danebruno, a man wise in all the
secrets of statecraft, and powerful through
his riches and his high estate, but now
heavily stricken in years. But, notwith-
standing his advanced age, he was in-
flamed with the most ardent love for
Bellisandra, the youthful daughter of
Attarante, the King of Damascus, against
which city he had at this time sent a
powerful army with orders to camp round

THE SECOND FABLE. 269

about it, and to lay siege to it, and to
take it by storm, in order that, either by
love or by force, he might win for him-
self the princess to wife. But Bellisandra,
who had already a certain foreknowledge
that the Sultan of Cairo was both old and
ugly, had made up her mind once for all
that, rather than be forced to become the
wife of such a man, she would die by her
own hand.

As soon as Livoretto had arrived at
Cairo, and had gone into the city, and
wandered into every part thereof, and
marvelled at all he saw, he felt this was
a place to his taste, and seeing that he
had by this time lavished all his sub-
stance in paying for his maintenance, he
determined that he would not depart
thence until he should have taken ser-
vice with some master or other. And
one day, when he found himself by the
palace of the sultan, he espied in the
court thereof a great number of guards
and mamelukes and slaves, and he ques-
tioned some of these as to whether there

2/0 NIGHT THE THIRD.

was in the court of the sultan lack of
servants of any sort, and they answered
him there was none. But, after a little,
one of these, calling to mind that there
was room in the household for a man
to tend the pigs, shouted after him, and
questioned him whether he would be
willing to be a swineherd, and Livoretto
answered 'Yes/ Then the man bade
him get off his horse, and took him to
the pigsties, asking at the same time
what was his name. Livoretto told him,
but hereafter men always called him Por-
carollo, the name they gave him.

And thus it happened that Livoretto,
now known by the name of Porcarollo,
settled himself in the court of the sultan,
and had no other employ than to let fat-
ten the pigs, and in this duty he showed
such great care and diligence that he
brought to an end easily in two months
tasks which would have taken any other
man six months to accomplish. When,
therefore, the guards and the mamelukes
and the slaves perceived what a service-

THE SECOND FABLE. 2? I

able fellow he was, they persuaded the
sultan that it would be well to provide
some other employment for him, because
his diligence and cleverness deserved
some better office than the low one he
now held. Wherefore, by the decree of
the sultan, he was put in charge of all the
horses in the royal stables, with a large
augmentation of his salary, a promotion
which pleased him mightily, because he
deemed that, when he should be the
master of all the other horses, he would
be the better able to see well to his own.
And when he got to work in his new
office he cleaned and trimmed the horses
so thoroughly, and made such good use
of the currycomb, that their skins shone
like satin.

Now, amongst the other horses there
was an exceedingly beautiful high-spir-
ited young palfrey, to which, on account
of its good looks, he paid special atten-
tion in order to train it perfectly, and
he trained it so well that the palfrey, be-
sides going anywhere he might be told

274 NIGHT THE THIRD.

rollo to be summoned into his presence,
he thus addressed him : < Porcarollo, it
is my will that you do service no longer
in the stables, as heretofore, but that you
attend me at my own table and do the
office of cupbearer, and taste everything
that may be put before me, as a guar-
antee that I may eat thereof without
hurt.'

The young man, after he had duly
entered upon the office of cupbearer to
the sultan, discharged his duties with so
great art and skilfulness that he won
the approbation, not only of the sultan,
but of all those about the court. But
amongst the mamelukes and slaves there
arose against him such a bitter hatred
and envy on account of the great favour
done to him by the sultan that they
could scarce bear the sight of him, and,
had they not been kept back by the fear
of their master, they would assuredly
have taken his life. Therefore, in order
to deprive the unfortunate youth of the
favour of the sultan, and to let him either

THE SECOND FABLE. 2?$

be slain or driven into perpetual exile,
they devised a most cunning and inge-
nious plot for the furtherance of their
design. They made beginning in this
wise. One morning a slave named Che-
bur, who had been sent in his turn to
do service to the sultan, said, ' My lord,
I have some good news to give you.'
( And what may this be ? ' inquired the
sultan. c It is,' replied the slave, ' that
Porcarollo, who bears by right the name
of Livoretto, has been boasting that he
would be able to accomplish for you
even so heavy a task as to give into your
keeping the daughter of Attarante, King
of Damascus.' 'And how can such a
thing as this be possible ? ' asked the
sultan. To whom Chebur replied, ' It
is indeed possible, O my lord ! but if you
will not put faith in my words, inquire
of the mamelukes and of the other slaves,
in whose presence he has boasted more
than once of his power to do this thing,
and then you will easily know whether
the tale I am telling you be false or true.'

2/2 NIGHT THE THIRD.

to go, would curve his neck, and dance,
and stand at his whole height on his
hind legs and paw the air so rapidly that
every motion seemed like the flight of
a bolt from a crossbow. The mame-
lukes and slaves, when they saw what
Livoretto had taught the palfrey to do
by his training, were thunderstruck with
amazement, for it seemed to them that
such things could hardly ensue in the
course of nature. Wherefore they de-
termined to tell the whole matter to the
sultan, in order that he might take pleas-
ure in witnessing the marvellous skill of
Porcarollo.

The sultan, who always wore an ap-
pearance of great melancholy, whether
from the torture of his amorous passion
or by reason of his great age, cared little
or nothing for recreation of any sort ;
but, weighed down by his troublesome
humours, would pass the time in think-
ing of nothing else besides his beloved
mistress. However, the mamelukes and
the slaves made so much ado about the

THE SECOND FABLE. 273

matter, that before long the sultan was
moved to take his stand at the window
one morning, and there to witness all the
various wonderful and dexterous feats
of horsemanship which Porcarollo per-
formed with his trained palfrey, and,
seeing what a good-looking youth he
was, and how well formed in his person,
and finding, moreover, that what he had
seen was even more attractive than he
had been led to expect, he came to the
conclusion that it was mighty ill manage-
ment (which now he began greatly to
regret) to have sent so accomplished a
youth to no better office than the feed-
ing and tending of beasts. Wherefore,
having turned the matter over in his
mind, and considered it in every light,
he realized to the full the eminent qual-
ities, hitherto concealed, of the graceful
young man, and found there was nothing
lacking in him. So he resolved at once
to remove him from the office he now
filled, and to place him in one of higher
consideration ; so, having caused Porca-

2/6 NIGHT THE THIRD.

After the sultan had duly assured him-
self that what the slave had told to him
was just, he summoned Liveretto into his
presence, and demanded of him whether
this saying concerning him which was
openly bruited about the court, was true.
Then the young man, who knew noth-
ing of what had gone before, gave a stout
denial, and spake so bluntly that the
sultan, with his rage and animosity fully
aroused, thus addressed him : f Get you
hence straightway, and if within the space
of thirty days you have not brought into
my power the Princess Bellisandra, the
daughter of Attarante, King of Damas-
cus, I will have your head taken off
your shoulders.' The young man, when
he heard this cruel speech of the sul-
tan, withdrew from the presence over-
whelmed with grief and confusion, and
betook himself to the stables.

As soon as he had entered, the fairy
horse, who remarked at once the sad
looks of his master and the scalding tears
which fell so plentifully from his eyes,

THE SECOND FABLE.

turned to him and said : c Alas ! my
master, why do I see you so deeply
agitated and so full of grief? ' The
young man, weeping and sighing deeply
the while, told him from beginning to
end all that the sultan had required him
to perform. Whereupon the horse, toss-
ing his head and making signs as if he
were laughing, managed to comfort him
somewhat, and went on to bid him be
of good heart and fear not, for all his
affairs would come to a prosperous issue
in the end. Then he said to his mas-
ter : ' Go back to the sultan and beg
him to give you a letter patent addressed
to the captain-general of his army who
is now laying siege to Damascus, in
which letter he shall write to the general
an express command that, as soon as he
shall have seen and read the letter patent
sealed with the sultan's great seal, he
shall forthwith raise the siege of the city,
and give to you money and fine cloth-
ing and arms in order that you may be
able to prosecute with vigour and spirit

278 NIGHT THE THIRD.

the great enterprise which lies before
you. And if peradventure it should
happen, during your voyage thither-
ward, that any person or any animal of
whatever sort or condition should en-
treat you to do them service of any kind,
take heed that you perform the favour
which may be required of you, nor, as
you hold your life dear to you, refuse
to do the service asked for. And if you
should meet with any man who is anxious
to purchase me of you, tell him that you
are willing to sell me, but at the same
time demand for me a price so extrava-
gant that he shall give up all thought
of the bargain. But if at any time a
woman should wish to buy me, bear
yourself gently towards her, and do her
every possible courtesy, giving her full
liberty to stroke my head, my forehead,
my eyes and ears, and my loins, and to
do anything else she may have a mind
to, for I will let them handle me as they
will without doing them the least mis-
chief or hurt of any kind.'

THE SECOND FABLE. 279

When he heard these words the young
man, full of hope and spirit, went back
to the sultan and made a request to him
for the letter patent and for everything
else that the fairy horse had named to
him. And when he had procured all
these from the sultan, he straightway
mounted the horse and took the road
which led to Damascus, giving by his
departure great delight to all the mame-
lukes and slaves, who, on account of the
burning envy and unspeakable hate they
harboured against him, held it for certain
that he would never again come back
alive to Cairo. Now it happened that,
when Livoretto had been a long time
on his journey, he came one day to a
pool, and he marked, as he passed by the
end thereof, that the shore gave forth
a very offensive smell, the cause of which
I cannot tell, so that one could hardly
go near to the place, and there upon the
shore he saw lying a fish half dead. The
fish, when it saw Livoretto approaching,
cried out : ' Alas ! kind gentleman, I be-

280 NIGHT THE THIRD.

seech you of your courtesy to set me
free from this foul-smelling mud, for I
am, as you may see, wellnigh dead on
account of it. The young man, taking
good heed of all that the fairy horse had
told him, forthwith got down from his
saddle and drew the fish out of the ill-
smelling water, and washed it clean with
his own hands. Then the fish, after it
had returned due thanks to Livoretto
for the kindness he had done for it, said
to him : ' Take from my back the three
biggest scales you can find, and keep
them carefully by you ; and if at any
time it shall happen that you are in need
of succour, put down the scales by the
bank of the river, and I will come to
you straightway and will give you instant
help.'

Livoretto accordingly took the three
scales, and, having thrown the fish, which
was now quite clean and shining, into
the clear water, remounted his horse and
rode on until he came to a certain place
where he found a peregrine falcon which

THE SECOND FABLE. ^l

had been frozen into a sheet of ice as
far as the middle of its body, and could
not get free. The falcon, when it saw
the young man, cried out : * Alas ! fair
youth, take pity on me, and release me
from this ice in which, as you see, I am
imprisoned, and I promise, if you will
deliver me from this great misfortune,
I will lend you my aid if at any time
you should chance to stand in need
thereof.' The young man, overcome by
compassion and pity, went kindly to the
succour of the bird, and having drawn
a knife which he carried attached to the
scabbard of his sword, he beat and
pierced with the point thereof the hard
ice round about the bird so that he brake
it, and then he took out the falcon and
cherished it in his bosom in order to
bring back somewhat of warmth to its
body. The falcon, when it had recov-
ered its strength and was itself again,
thanked the young man profusely for
his kindness, and as a recompense for
the great service he had wrought, it gave

282 NIGHT THE THIRD.

him two feathers which he would find
growing under its left wing, begging him
at the -same time to guard and preserve
them most carefully for the sake of the
love it bore him ; for if in the future he
should chance to stand in need of any
succour, he might take the two feathers
to the river and stick them in the bank
there, and then immediately it would
come to his assistance. And having
thus spoken the bird flew away.

After Livoretto had continued his
journey for some days he came to the
sultan's army encamped before the city,
and there he found the captain-general,
who was vexing the place with fierce
assaults. Having been brought into the
general's presence, he drew forth the
sultan's letter patent, and the general,
as soon as he had mastered the contents
thereof, immediately gave orders that the
siege should be raised, and this having
been done he marched back to Cairo
with his whole army. Livoretto, after
watching the departure of the captain-

THE SECOND FABLE. 283

general, made his way the next morning
into the city of Damascus by himself,
and having taken up his quarters at an
inn, he attired himself in a very fair and
rich garment, all covered with most rare
and precious gems, which shone bright
enough to make the sun envious, and
mounted his fairy horse, and rode into
the piazza in front of the royal palace,
where he made the horse go through all
the exercises he had taught it with so
great readiness and dexterity, that every-
one who beheld him stood still in amaze-
ment and could look at nought beside.
Now it happened that the noise made
by the tumultuous crowd in the piazza
below roused from sleep the Princess
Bellisandra, and she forthwith arose from
her bed. Having gone out upon a bal-
cony, which commanded a view of all
the square beneath, she saw there a very
handsome youth ; but what she marked
especially was the beauty and vivacity
of the gallant and high-mettled horse
on which he sat. In short, she was

284 NIGHT THE THIRD.

seized with a desire to get this horse for
her own, just as keen as the passion of
an amorous youth for the fair maiden
on whom he has set his heart. So she
went at once to her father and besought
him most urgently to buy the horse for
her, because ever since she had looked
upon his beauty and grace she had come
to feel that she could not live without
him. Then the king, for the gratifica-
tion of the fancy of his daughter, whom
he loved very tenderly, sent out one of
his chief nobles to ask Livoretto whether
he would be willing to sell his horse for
any reasonable price, because the only
daughter of the king was taken with the
keenest desire to possess it. On hear-
ing this Livoretto answered that there
was nothing on earth precious and ex-
cellent enough to be accounted as a price
for the horse, and demanded therefor a
greater sum of money than there was
in all the dominions which the king had
inherited from his fathers. When the
king heard the enormous price asked

THE SECOND F/IBLE. 285

by Livoretto, he called his daughter and
said to her : ' My daughter, I cannot
bring myself to lavish the value of my
whole kingdom in purchasing for you
this horse and in satisfying your desire.
Wherefore have a little patience, and
live happy and contented, for I will
make search and buy you another horse
even better and more beautiful than
this.'

But the effect of these words of the
king was to inflame Bellisandra with yet
more ardent longing to possess the horse,
and she besought her father more insist-
ently than ever to buy it for her, no
matter how great might be the price he
had to pay for it. Then the maiden,
after much praying and intercession,
found that her entreaties had no avail
with her father, so she left him, and be-
took herself to her mother, and feign-
ing to be half dead and prostrate with
despair, fell into her arms. The mother,
filled with pity, and seeing her child
so deeply grief-stricken and pale, gave

286 NIGHT THE THIRD.

her what gentle consolation she could,
and begged her to moderate her grief,
and suggested that, as soon as the
king should be out of the way, they
two should seek out the young man
and should bargain with him for the pur-
chase of the horse, and then perhaps (be-
cause they were women) he would let
them have it at a more reasonable price.
The maiden, when she heard these
kindly words of her beloved mother,
was somewhat comforted, and as soon as
the king was gone elsewhere the queen
straightway despatched a messenger to
Livoretto, bidding him to come at once
to the palace and to bring his horse with
him ; and he, when he heard the mes-
sage thus delivered to him, rejoiced
greatly, and at once betook himself to
the court. When he was come into the
queen's presence, she forthwith asked
him what price he demanded for the
horse which her daughter so much de-
sired to possess, and he answered her in
these words : c Madam, if you were to

THE SECOND FABLE. 287

offer to give me all you possess in the
world for my horse it could never be-
come your daughter's as a purchase, but
if it should please her to accept it as a
gift, she can have it for nothing. Before
she takes it as a present, however, I had
rather that she should make trial of it,
for it is so gentle and well-trained that it
will allow anybody to mount it without
difficulty. ' With these words he got
down from the saddle and helped the
princess to mount therein ; whereupon
she, holding the reins in her hand, made
it go here and there and managed it per-
fectly. But after a little, when the prin-
cess had gone on the horse about a
stone's throw distant from her mother,
Livoretto sprang suddenly upon the
crupper of the horse, and struck his
spurs deep into the flanks of the beast,
and pricked it so sharply that it went as
quickly as if it had been a bird flying
through the air. The maiden, bewil-
dered at this strange conduct, began to
cry out : * You wicked and disloyal

288 NIGHT THE THIRD.

traitor ! Whither are you carrying me,
you dog, and son of a dog ? ' How-
ever, all her cries and reproaches were
to no purpose, for there was no one near
to give her aid or even to comfort her
with a word.

It happened as they rode along that
they came to the bank of a river, and
in passing this the maiden drew off from
her finger a very beautiful ring which
she wore thereon, and cast it secretly
into the water. And after they had
been for many days on their journey,
they arrived at last at Cairo, and as soon
as Livoretto had come to the palace he
immediately took the princess and pre-
sented her to the sultan, who, when he
saw how lovely and graceful and pure
she was, rejoiced greatly, and bade her
welcome with all sorts of kindly speeches.
And after a while, when the hour for re-
tiring to rest had come, and the sultan
had retired with the princess to a cham-
ber as richly adorned as it was beautiful
in itself, the princess spake thus to the

THE SECOND FABLE. 289

sultan : f Sire, do not dream that I will
ever yield to your amorous wishes unless
you first command that wicked and ras-
cally servant of yours to find my ring
which fell into the river as we journeyed
hither. When he shall have recovered
it and brought it back to me you will
see that I shall be ready to comply with
your desire.' The sultan, who was by
this time all on fire with love for the
deeply injured princess, could deny her
nothing which might please her; so
he turned to Livoretto and bade him
straightway set forth in quest of the ring,
threatening him that if he should fail
in his task he should immediately be put
to death.

Livoretto, as soon as he heard the
words of the sultan, perceived that these
were orders which must be carried out
at once, and that he would put himself
in great danger by running counter to his
master's wishes ; so he went out of his
presence deeply troubled, and betook
himself to the stables, where he wept

290 NIGHT THE THIRD.

long and bitterly, for he was altogether
without hope that he would ever be able
to recover the princess's ring. The fairy
horse, when he saw his master thus heav-
ily stricken with grief and weeping so
piteously, asked him what evil could
have come to him to make him shed
such bitter tears ; and after Livoretto
had told him the cause thereof, the horse
thus addressed his master : ( Ah, my
poor master ! cease, I pray you, to talk in
this strain. Remember the words that
the fish spake to you, and open your ears
to hear what I shall say, and take good
heed to carry out everything as I shall
direct you. Go back to the sultan and
ask him for all you may need for your
enterprise, and then set about it with a
confident spirit, and have no doubts.'
Livoretto therefore did exactly what the
horse commanded him to do, no more
and no less ; and, after having travelled
for some time, came at last to that par-
ticular spot where he had crossed the
river with the princess, and there he

THE SECOND FABLE. 29 1

laid the three scales of the fish on the
green turf of the bank. Whereupon the
fish, gliding through the bright and lim-
pid stream, leaping now to this side and
now to that, swam up to where Livo-
retto stood with every manifestation of
joy and gladness, and, having brought out
of his mouth the rare and precious ring,
he delivered it into Livoretto's hand,
and when he had taken back his three
scales he plunged beneath the water and
disappeared.

As soon as Livoretto had got the ring
safely back, all his sorrow at once gave
place to gladness, and without any de-
lay he took his way home to Cairo, and
when he had come into the sultan's pres-
ence and had made formal obeisance to
him, he presented the ring to the prin-
cess. The sultan, as soon as he saw that
her wishes had been fulfilled by the res-
toration of the precious ring she had de-
sired so ardently, began to court her with
the most tender and amorous caresses
and flattering speeches, hoping thereby

292 NIGHT THE THIRD.

to induce her to lie with him that night ;
but all his supplications and wooings
were in vain, for the princess said to him :
{ Sir, do not think to deceive me with
your fine words and false speeches. I
swear to you that you shall never take
your pleasure of me until that ruffian,
that false rascal who entrapped me with
his horse and conveyed me hither, shall
have brought me some of the water of
life.' The sultan, who was anxious not
to cross or contradict in any way this
lady of whom he was so much enamoured,
but did all in his power to please her,
straightway summoned Livoretto, and
bade him in a severe tone to go forth
and to bring back with him some of the
water of life, or to lose his head.

Livoretto, when he heard the impos-
sible demand that was made upon him,
was terribly overcome with grief; more-
over, the wrath which was kindled in his
heart burst out into a flame, and he com-
plained bitterly that the sultan should
offer him so wretched a return as this for

THE SECOND FABLE. 293

all the faithful service he had given, and
for all the heavy and prolonged fatigue
he had undergone, putting his own life
the while in the most imminent danger.
But the sultan, burning with love, was
in no mind to set aside the purpose he
had formed for satisfying the wishes of
the lady he loved so much, and let it be
known that he would have the water of
life found for her at any cost. So when
Livoretto went out of his master's pres-
ence he betook himself, as was his wont,
to the stables, cursing his evil fortune and
weeping bitterly all the while. The
horse, when he saw the heavy grief in
which his master was, and listened to his
bitter lamentations, spake to him thus :
1 O my master ! why do you torment
yourself in this fashion ? Tell me if any
fresh ill has happened to you. Calm
yourself as well as you can, and remem-
ber that a remedy is to be found for every
evil under the sun, except for death.'
And when the horse had heard the rea-
son of Liveretto's bitter weeping, it com-

294 NIGHT THE THIRD.

forted him with gentle words, bidding
him recall to memory what had been
spoken to him by the falcon which he
had delivered from its frozen bonds of
ice, and the valuable gift of the two
feathers. Whereupon the unhappy Liv-
oretto, having taken heed of all the horse
said to him, mounted it and rode away.
He carried with him a small phial of
glass, well sealed at the mouth, and this
he made fast to his girdle. Then he
rode onward and onward till he came to
the spot where he had set the falcon at
liberty, and there he planted the two
feathers in the bank of the river accord-
ing to the direction he had received,
and suddenly the falcon appeared in the
air and asked him what his need might
be. To this Livoretto answered that he
wanted some of the water of life ; and
the falcon, when he heard these words,
cried out, * Alas, alas, gentle knight ! the
thing you seek is impossible. You will
never get it by your own power, because
the fountain from which it springs is

THE SECOND FABLE. 29$

always guarded and narrowly watched by
two savage lions and by two dragons,
who roar horribly day and night without
ceasing, and mangle miserably and de-
vour all those who would approach the
fountain to take of the water. But now,
as a recompense for the great service you
once rendered me, take the phial which
hangs at your side, and fasten it under
my right wing, and see that you depart
not from this place until I shall have
returned.'

When Livoretto had done all this as
the falcon had ordered, the bird rose up
from the earth with the phial attached
to its wing, and flew away to the region
where was the fountain of the water of
life, and, having secretly filled the phial
with the water, returned to the place
where Livoretto was, and gave to him
the phial. Then he took up his two
feathers and flew away out of sight.

Livoretto, in great joy that he had
indeed procured some of the precious
water, without making any more delay

296 NIGHT THE THIRD.

returned to Cairo in haste, and, having
arrived there, he presented himself to
the sultan, who was passing the time in
pleasant converse with Bellisandra, his
beloved lady. The sultan took the
water of life, and in high glee gave it to
the princess, and, as soon as she could
call this precious fluid her own, he re-
commenced his entreaties that she would,
according to her promise, yield herself
to his pleasure. But she, firm as a strong
tower beaten about by the raging winds,
declared that she would never consent
to gratify his desire unless he should
first cut off with his own hands the
head of that Livoretto who had been to
her the cause of so great shame and dis-
aster. When the sultan heard this sav-
age demand of the cruel princess, he
was in no degree moved to comply with
it, because it seemed to him a most
shameful thing that, as a recompense for
all the great labours he had accom-
plished, Livoretto should be thus cruelly
bereft of life. But the treacherous and

THE SECOND FABLE. 297

wicked princess, resolutely determined
to work her nefarious purpose, snatched
up a naked dagger, and with all the
daring and violence of a man struck the
youth in the throat while the sultan was
standing by, and, because there was no
one present with courage enough to give
succour to the unhappy Livoretto, he
fell dead.

And not content with this cruel out-
rage, the bloody-minded girl hewed off
his head from his shoulders, and, having
chopped his flesh into small pieces, and
torn up his nerves, and broken his hard
bones and ground them to a fine powder,
she took a large bowl of copper, and
little by little she threw therein the
pounded and cut-up flesh, compounding
it with the bones and the nerves as
women of a household are wont to do
when they make a great pasty with a
leavened crust thereto. And after all
was well kneaded, and the cut-up flesh
thoroughly blended with the powdered
bones and the nerves, the princess fash-

298 NIGHT THE THIRD.

ioned out of the mixed-up mass the fine
and shapely image of a man, and this
she sprinkled with the water of life out
of the phial, and straightway the young
man was restored to life from death
more handsome and more graceful than
he had ever been before.

The sultan, who felt the weight of
his years heavy upon him, no sooner
saw this amazing feat and the great
miracle which was wrought, than he was
struck with astonishment and stood as
one confounded. Then he felt a great
longing to be made again a youth, so
he begged Bellisandra to treat him in
the same way as she had treated Livo-
retto. Then the princess, who tarried
not a moment to obey this command of
the sultan, took up the sharp knife
which was still wet with Livoretto's
blood, and, having seized him by the
throat with her left hand, held him fast
while she dealt him a mortal blow in
the breast. Then she commanded the
slaves to throw the body of the sultan

THE SECOND FABLE. 299

out of the window into the deep ditch
which ran round the walls of the palace,
and thus, instead of being restored to
youth as was Livoretto, he became food
for dogs after the miserable end he
made.

After she had wrought this terrible
deed the Princess Bellisandra was greatly
feared and reverenced by all in the city
on account of the strange and marvel-
lous power that was in her, and when
the news was brought to her that the
young man was a son of Dalfreno, King
of Tunis, and that his rightful name
was Livoretto, she wrote a letter to the
old father, giving him therein a full
account of all the amazing accidents
which had befallen his son, and begging
him most urgently to come at once to
Cairo in order that he might be present
at the nuptials of herself and Livoretto.
And King Dalfreno, when he heard this
good news about his son — of whom
no word had been brought since he left
Tunis with his brother — rejoiced greatly,

300 NIGHT THE THIRD.

and, having put all his affairs in good
order, betook himself to Cairo and was
welcomed by the whole city with the
most distinguished marks of honour.
After the space of a few days Bellisandra
and Livoretto were married amidst the
rejoicings of the whole people, and thus
with the princess as his lawful spouse,
with sumptuous triumphs and feastings,
and with the happiest omens, Livoretto
was made the Sultan of Cairo, where for
many years he governed his realm in
peace and lived a life of pleasure and
tranquillity. Dalfreno tarried in Cairo
a few days after the nuptials, and then
took leave of his son and daughter-in-
law and returned to Tunis safe and
sound.

As soon as Arianna had come to the
end of her interesting story, she pro-
pounded her enigma forthwith, in order
that the rule which governed the enter-
tainment might be strictly kept :

Small what though my compass be,
A mighty furnace gendered me.

THE SECOND FABLE. 3O1

The covering which round me clings,
Is what from marshy plains upsprings.
My soul, which should be free as air,
Is doomed a prisoner close to fare.
It is a liquor bland and sweet.
No jest is this which I repeat :
All silken are my festal clothes,
And man will put me to his nose,
To make me all my charms disclose.

All those assembled listened with the
keenest attention to the ingenious enigma
set forth by Arianna, and they made her
repeat it over and over again, but not
one of the whole company proved to
have wit sharp enough for the disen-
tangling thereof. At last the fair Ari-
anna gave the solution in these words :
" Ladies and gentlemen, my enigma is
supposed to describe a little flask of
rose water, which has a body of glass
born in a fiery furnace. Its covering
comes from the marshes, for it is made
of straw, and the soul which is contained
within is the rose water. The gown or
robe with which it is surrounded is the

302 NIGHT THE THIRD.

vessel, and whosoever sees it puts it
under his nose to enjoy the odour there-
of."

As soon as Arianna had given the
solution of her enigma, Lauretta, who
was seated next to her, remembered that
it was her turn to speak. Wherefore
without waiting for any further com-
mand from the Signora she thus began.

THE THIRD FABLE.

ifJtancafcella, tfje fcaugfjter of ILam&etico, fKarqufg
of JKonferrato, is sent afcoag 6g tfje step*
motfjer of JFerranfcino, 1&mg of Naples, in
oroer tijat sfje mag fte put to fceatfj ; but tfje
assassins onljj cut off fjer fjanlis anti put out
fjer eoes. ^ftertoaros sfje, ^er fjurts fjafohtg
fceen ^ealeti 6g a snake, returns ftapprt2 to
Jerrantjfno.

IT is praiseworthy, or even abso- •
lutely necessary, that a woman,
of whatever state or condition
she may be, should bear her
self with prudence in each and every
undertaking she may essay, for without

THE THIRD FABLE. 3°3

prudence nothing will bring itself to a
commendable issue. And if a certain
stepmother, of whom I am about to tell
you, had used it with due moderation
when she plotted wickedly to take an-
other's life, she would not herself have
been cut off by divine judgment in such
fashion as I will now relate to you.

Once upon a time, now many years
ago, there reigned in Monferrato a mar-
quis called Lamberico, very puissant,
both on account of his lordships and
his great wealth, but wanting in chil-
dren to carry on his name. He was,
forsooth, mighty anxious for progeny,
but this bounty of heaven was denied to
him. Now one day it chanced that the
marchioness his wife was walking for her
pleasure in the palace garden, and, be-
ing suddenly overcome by sleep, she
sat down at the foot of a tree and slum-
ber fell upon her. While she slept
gently there crept up to her side a very
small snake, which, having passed stealth-
ily under her clothes without arousing

304 NIGHT THE THIRD.

her by its presence, made its way into
her body, and by subtle windings pene-
trated even into her womb, and there
lay quiet. Before long time had elapsed
the marchioness, with no small pleasure
to herself, and with the highest delight
of all the state, proved to be with child,
and, when the season of her lying-in
came, she was delivered of a female child,
round the neck of which there was coiled
three times something in the similitude
of a serpent. When the midwives, who
were in attendance upon the marchioness,
saw this, they were much affrighted ;
but the snake, without causing any hurt
whatsoever, untwined itself from the
infant's neck, and, winding itself along
the floor and stretching itself out, made
its way into the garden.

Now when the child had been duly
cared for and clothed, the nurses having
washed it clean in a bath of clear water
and swathed it in snow-white linen, they
began to see, little by little, that round
about its neck was a collar of gold, fash-

THE THIRD FABLE. 3° 5

ioned with the most subtle handiwork.
So fine was it, and so lovely, that it
seemed to shed its lustre from between
the skin and the flesh, just as the most
precious jewels are wont to shine out
from a closure of transparent crystal,
and, moreover, it encircled the neck of
the infant just as many times as the
little serpent had cast its fold thereabout.
The little girl, to whom, on account of
her exceeding loveliness, the name of
Biancabella was given, grew up in such
goodliness and beauty that it seemed as
if she must be sprung from divine and
not from human stock. When she had
come to the age of ten years it chanced
that one day she went with her nurse
upon a terrace, from whence she ob-
served a fair garden full of roses and all
manner of other lovely flowers. Then,
turning towards the nurse who had her
in charge, she demanded of her what
garden that was which she had never
seen before. To this the nurse replied
that it was a place which her mother

306 NIGHT THE THIRD.

called her own garden, and one, more-
over, in which she was wont often to
take her recreation. Then said the
child to her : ' I have never seen any-
thing so fair before, and I had fain go
into it and walk there.' Then the nurse,
taking Biancabella by the hand, led her
into the garden, and, having suffered
the child to go a little distance apart
from her, she sat down under the shade
of a leafy beech-tree and settled herself
to sleep, letting the little girl take her
pleasure the while in roaming about the
garden. Biancabella, who was altogether
charmed with the loveliness of the place,
ran about, now here and now there,
gathering flowers, and, at last, when she
felt somewhat tired, she sat down under
the shadow of a tree. Now scarcely
had the child seated herself upon the
ground when there appeared a little
snake, which crept up close to her side.
Biancabella, as soon as she saw the beast,
was mightily alarmed, and was about to
cry out, when the snake thus addressed

THE THIRD FABLE.

her : * Cry not, I beg you, neither dis-
turb yourself, nor have any fear, for
know that I am your sister, born on the
same day as yourself and at the same
birth, and that Samaritana is my name.
And I now tell you that, if you will be
obedient to what I shall command you,
I will make you happy in your life ; but
if, on the other hand, you disobey me,
you will come to be the most luckless,
the most wretched woman the world has
ever yet seen. Wherefore, go your
way now, without fear of any sort, and
to-morrow cause to be brought into this
garden two vessels, of which let one be
filled with pure milk, and the other with
the finest water of roses. Then you
must come to me by yourself without
companions.'

When the serpent was gone the little
girl rose up from her seat and went back
to seek her nurse, whom she found still
sleeping, and, having aroused her, she
returned with her to the palace without
saying aught of what had befallen her.

308 NIGHT THE THIRD.

And when the morrow had come Bian-
cabella chanced to be with her mother
alone in the chamber, and the mother
remarked that the child bore upon her
face a melancholy look. Whereupon
she said : ' Biancabella, what ails you that
you put on so discontented a face ? You
are wont to be lively and merry enough,
but now you seem all sad and woebe-
gone.' To this Biancabella replied :
1 There is nothing amiss with me ; it is
only that I want to have taken into the
garden two vessels, of which one shall
be filled with pure milk and the other
of the finest water of roses.' The mother
answered: 'And why do you let your-
self be troubled by so small a matter as
this, my child ? Do you not know that
everything here belongs to you ? ' Then
the marchioness caused to be brought to
her two vessels, large and beautiful, filled,
the one with milk and the other with
rose water, and had them carried into
the garden.

When the hour appointed, by the

Biancabella And The Enchanted
Serpent

THIRD FABLE

THE THIRD FABLE. 3°9

serpent had come, Biancabella, without
taking any other damsel to bear her
company, repaired to the garden, and,
having opened the door thereof, she
went in and made fast the entrance, and
then seated herself upon the ground at
the spot where the two vessels had been
placed. Almost as soon as she had sat
down the serpent appeared and came near
her, and straightway commanded her to
strip off all her clothes, and then, naked
as she was, to step into the vessel which
was filled with milk. When she had
done this, the serpent twined itself about
her, thus bathing her body in every part
with the white milk and licking her all
over with his tongue, rendering her pure
and perfect in every part where, perad-
venture, aught that was faulty might
have been found. Next, having bid her
come out of the vessel of milk, the ser-
pent made her enter the one which was
filled with rose water, whereupon all her
limbs were scented with odours so sweet
and restorative that she felt as if she

310 NIGHT THE THIRD.

were filled with fresh life. Then the
serpent bade her put on her clothes once
more, giving her at the same time ex-
press command that she should hold
her peace as to what had befallen her,
and to speak no word thereanent even to
her father and mother. For the serpent
willed that no other woman in all the
world should be found to equal Bianca-
bella in beauty or in grace. And finally,
after she had bestowed upon her every
good quality, the serpent crept away to
its hiding-place.

When this was done Biancabella left
the garden and returned to the palace.
Her mother, when she perceived how
her daughter had become more lovely
and gracious than ever, and fairer than
any other damsel in the world, was as-
tonished beyond measure and knew not
what to say. Wherefore she questioned
the young girl as to what she had done
to indue herself with such surpassing
loveliness; but Biancabella had no an-
swer to give her. Hereupon the mar-

THE THIRD FABLE. 311

chioness took a comb and began to comb
and dress her daughter's fair locks, and
forthwith from the girl's hair there fell
down pearls and all manner of precious
stones, and when Biancabella went to
wash her hands roses and violets and
lovely flowers of all sorts sprang up
around them, and the odours which arose
from these were so sweet that it seemed
as if the place had indeed become an
earthly paradise. Her mother, when she
saw this marvel, ran to find Lamberico
her husband, and, full of maternal pride,
thus addressed him : * My lord, heaven
has bestowed upon us a daughter who is
the sweetest, the loveliest, and the most
exquisite work nature ever produced.
For besides the divine beauty and grace
in her, which is manifest to all eyes,
pearls and gems and all other kinds of
precious stones fall from her hair, and —
to name something yet more marvellous
— round about her white hands spring
up roses and violets and all manner of
flowers which give out the sweetest

312 NIGHT THE THIRD.

odours to all those who may come near
her to wonder at the sight. All this I
tell to you I assuredly would never have
believed had I not looked thereon with
my own eyes.'

Her husband, who was of an unbe-
lieving nature, was at first disinclined to
put faith in his wife's words, and treated
her speech as a subject for laughter and
ridicule, but she went on plying him
without ceasing with accounts of what
she had witnessed, so that he determined
to see for himself how the matter really
stood. Then, having made them bring
his daughter into his presence, he found
about her even more marvellous things
than his wife had described, and on ac-
count of what he saw he rejoiced exceed-
ingly, and in his pride swore a great oath
that there was in the whole world no man
worthy to be united to her in wedlock.

Very soon the fame and glory of the
supreme and immortal beauty of Bian-
cabella began to spread itself through the
whole world, and many kings and princes

THE THIRD F/1BLE. 3*3

and nobles came together from all parts
in order to win her love and favour and
have her to wife, but not one of all these
suitors was counted worthy to enjoy her,
inasmuch as each one of them proved to
be lacking in respect of one thing or
another. But at last one day there came
a-wooing Ferrandino, King of Naples,
who by his prowess and by his illustri-
ous name blazed out resplendent like the
sun in the midst of the smaller lumina-
ries, and, having presented himself to the
marquis, demanded of him the hand of
his daughter in marriage. The marquis,
seeing that the suitor was seemly of
countenance, and well knit in person, and
full of grace, besides being a prince of
great power and possessions and wealth,
gave his consent to the nuptials at once,
and, having summoned his daughter,
without further parleying the two were
betrothed by joining of hands and by
kissing one another.

Scarcely were the rites of betrothal
completed, when Biancabella called back

314 NIGHT THE THIRD.

to mind the words which her sister Sa-
maritana had so lovingly spoken to her,
wherefore she withdrew herself from the
presence of her spouse under the pretext
that she had certain business of her own
to see to, and, having gone to her own
chamber, made fast the door thereof from
within, and then passed by a secret thor-
oughfare into the garden. When she
had come into the garden, she began to
call upon Samaritana in a low voice. But
the serpent no more manifested herself
as heretofore, and Biancabella, when she
perceived this, was mightily astonished,
and, after she had searched through every
part of the garden without finding a trace
of Samaritana, a deep grief fell upon her,
for she knew that this thing had hap-
pened to her because she had not given
due attention and obedience to the com-
mands which her sister had laid upon
her. Wherefore, grieving and bewailing
heavily on account of the mischance that
had befallen her, she returned into her
chamber, and having opened the door,

THE THIRD FABLE. 3*5

she went to rejoin her spouse, who had
been waiting a long time for her, and sat
down beside him. When the marriage
ceremonies were completed, Ferrandino
led his bride away with him to Naples,
where, with sumptuous state and mag-
nificent festivities and the sound of trum-
pets, they were welcomed by the whole
city with the highest honour.

It happened that there was living at
Naples Ferrandino's stepmother, who
had two daughters of her own, both of
them deformed and ugly ; but, notwith-
standing this, she had set her heart on
marrying one of them to the king. But
now, when all hope was taken from her
of ever accomplishing this design of hers,
her rage and anger against Biancabella
became so savage that she could scarcely
endure to look upon her. But she was
careful to conceal her animosity, feigning
the while to hold Biancabella in all love
and affection. Now by a certain freak
of fortune the King of Tunis at this time
began to set in array a mighty force of

3 1 6 NIGHT THE THIRD.

armed men for service by land and like-
wise on sea, in order that he might in-
cite Ferrandino to make war (whether
he did this because Ferrandino had won
Biancabella to wife, or for some other
reason I know not), and at the head of
a very powerful army he had already
passed the bounds of the kingdom of
Naples. On this account it was neces-
sary that Ferrandino should straightway
take up arms for the defence of his realm,
and hurry to the field to confront his foe.
Therefore, having settled his affairs, and
made provision of all things necessary
for Biancabella (she being now with child),
he gave her over to the care of his step-
mother and set forth with his army.

Ferrandino had not long departed when
this malevolent and froward-minded wo-
man made a wicked design on Bianca-
bella's life, and, having summoned into
her presence certain retainers who were
entirely devoted to her, she charged them
to conduct Biancabella with them to some
place or other — feigning that what they

THE THIRD FABLE.

were doing was done for her recreation
— and that they should not leave her
until they had taken her life. More-
over, in order that she might be fully
assured that they had discharged their
duty, they were to bring back to her
some sign of Biancabella's death. These
ruffians, prompt for any sort of ill-doing,
at once prepared to carry out the com-
mands of their mistress, and making pre-
tence of conducting Biancabella to some
place where she might recreate herself,
they carried her away into a wood, and
forthwith began to make preparation to
kill her. But when they perceived how
lovely she was, and gracious, they were
moved to pity and had not the heart to
take her life. So they cut off both her
hands and tore her eyes out of her head,
and these they carried back to the step-
mother as certain proofs that Biancabella
had been killed by them. When this
impious and cruel woman saw what they
brought in their hands, her joy and satis-
faction were unbounded, and, scheming

NIGHT THE THIRD.

still in her wicked heart to carry out her
nefarious designs, she spread through all
the kingdom a report that both her own
daughters were dead, the one of a con-
tinued fever, and the other of an impost-
hume of the heart, which had caused her
death by suffocation. Moreover, she
went on to declare that Biancabella, dis-
ordered by grief at the king's departure,
had miscarried of a child, and had like-
wise been seized with a tertian fever which
had wasted her so cruelly that there was
more cause to fear her death than to
hope for her recovery. But the scheme
of this wicked cunning woman was to
keep one of her own daughters in the
king's bed, maintaining the while that
she was Biancabella, shrunken and dis-
tempered by the fever.

Ferrandino, after he had attacked and
put to rout the army of his foe, marched
homeward in all the triumph of victory,
hoping to find his beloved Biancabella
full of joy and happiness, but in lieu of
this he found her (as he believed) lying

THE THIRD FABLE.

in bed shrivelled, pale, and disfigured.
Then he went up to the bed and gazed
closely at her face, and was overcome
with astonishment when he looked upon
the wreck she had become, and could
hardly persuade himself that the woman
he saw there could really be Biancabella.
Afterwards he bade her attendants comb
her hair, and, in place of the gems and
the precious jewels which were wont to
fall from the fair locks of his wife, there
came forth great worms which had been
feeding on the wretched woman's flesh,
and from the hands there came forth, not
the roses and the sweet-smelling flowers
which ever sprang up around Biancabel-
la's, but a foulness and filth which caused
a nauseous sickness to all who came near
her. But the wicked old stepmother
kept on speaking words of consolation
to him, declaring that all this distemper
sprang from nothing else than the length-
ened course of the ailment which pos-
sessed her.

In the meantime the ill-fated Bianca-

320 NIGHT THE THIRD.

bella, bereft of her hands and blind in
both her eyes, was left alone in that soli-
tary place, and, finding herself in such
cruel affliction, she called over and over
again upon her sister Samaritana, beseech-
ing her to come to her rescue ; but no
answer came to her except from the re-
sounding voice of Echo, who cried aloud
through all the place. And while the un-
happy Biancabella was left in the agony
of despair, conscious that she was cut
off from all human aid, there came into
the wood a venerable old man, kindly of
aspect and no less kindly in his heart.
And he, when he listened to the sad and
mournful voice which smote upon his
hearing, made his way step by step to-
wards the place whence it came, and
stopped when he found there a blind
lady with her hands cut off who was bit-
terly mourning the sad fate which had
overtaken her. When the good old man
looked upon her, and saw how sad was
her condition, he could not bear to leave
her thus in this wilderness of broken

THE THIRD FABLE. 321

trees and thorns and brambles, but, over-
come by the fatherly pity within him,
he led her home with him to his house,
and gave her into the charge of his wife,
commanding her very strictly to take
good care of the sufferer. Then he
turned towards his three daughters, who
verily were as beautiful as three of the
brightest stars of heaven, and exhorted
them earnestly to keep her company,
and to render to her continually any lov-
ing service she might require, and to take
care that she wanted for nothing. But
the wife, who had a hard heart, and none
of the old man's pity, was violently
moved to anger by these words of her
husband, and, turning towards him, cried
out : c Husband, what is this you would
have us do with this woman, all blind
and maimed as she is ? Doubtless she
has been thus treated as a punishment
for her sins, and for no good behaviour.'
In reply to this speech the old man spake
in an angry tone : f You will carry out
all the commands I give you. If you

322 NIGHT THE THIRD.

should do aught else, you need not look
to see me here again.'

It happened that while the unhappy
Biancabella was left in charge of the wife
and the three daughters, conversing with
them of various things, and meditating
over her own great misfortunes, she be-
sought one of the maidens to do her a
favour and comb her hair a little. But
when the mother heard this she was much
angered, forasmuch as she would not al-
low either of her children to minister in
any way to the unfortunate sufferer. But
the daughter's heart was more given to
pity than was her mother's, and more-
over she called to mind what her father's
commands had been, and was conscious
of some subtle air of dignity and high
breeding which seemed to emanate from
Biancabella as a token of her lofty es-
tate. So she straightway unfastened the
apron from her waist, and, having spread
it on the floor beside Biancabella, began
to comb her hair softly and carefully.
Scarcely had she passed the comb thrice

THE THIRD FABLE. 323

through the blond tresses before there
fell out of them pearls and rubies and
diamonds and all sorts of precious stones.
Now the mother, when she saw what had
happened, was seized with dread, and
stood as one struck with amazement ;
moreover, the great dislike which at first
she had harboured towards Biancabella,
now gave way to a feeling of kindly af-
fection. And when the old man had
come back to the house they all ran to
embrace him, rejoicing with him greatly
over the stroke of good fortune which
had come to deliver them from the bit-
ter poverty which had hitherto oppressed
them. Then Biancabella asked them to
bring her a bucket of clear water, and
bade them wash therewith her face and
her maimed arms, and from these, while
all were standing by, roses and violets
and other flowers in great plenty fell
down ; whereupon they all deemed she
must be some divine personage, and no
mortal woman.

Now after a season it came to pass that

324 NIGHT THE THIRD.

Biancabella felt a desire to return to the
spot where first the old man had found
her. But he and his wife and his daugh-
ters, seeing how great were the benefits
they gathered from her presence, loaded
her with endearments, and besought her
very earnestly that she would on no ac-
count depart from them, bringing for-
ward many reasons why she should not
carry out her wish. But she, having res-
olutely made up her mind on this point,
determined at all hazards to go away,
promising at the same time to return to
them hereafter. The old man, when he
saw how firmly she was set on her de-
parture, took her with him without any
further delay back to the place where he
had come upon her. And when they
had reached this spot she gave directions
to the old man that he should depart
and leave her, bidding him also to come
back there when evening should have
fallen, in order that she might return
with him to his house.

As soon as the old man had gone his

THE THIRD FABLE. 325

way the ill-fated Biancabella began to
wander up and down the gloomy wood,
calling loudly upon Samaritana, so that
her cries and lamentations rose up even
to the high heavens. But Samaritana,
though she was all the while nigh to her
sister, and had never for one moment
abandoned her, refused as yet to answer
to her call. Whereupon the wretched
Biancabella, deeming that she was scat-
tering her words upon the heedless winds,
cried out, ' Alas ! what further concern
have I in this world, seeing that I have
been bereft of my eyes and of my hands,
and now at last all human help is denied
to me.' And as she thus spoke there
came upon her a sort of frenzy, which
took away from her all hope of deliver-
ance from her present evil case, and
urged her, in despair, to lay hands upon
her own life. But because there was at
hand no means by which she could put
an end to her miserable being, she found
her way to a pool of water, which lay not
far distant, in the mind there to drown

326 NIGHT THE THIRD.

herself. But when she had come to the
shore of the pool, and stood thereon
ready to cast herself down into the water,
there sounded in her ears a voice like
thunder, saying : * Alas, alas, wretched
one ! keep back from self-murder, nor
desire to take your own life, which you
ought to preserve for some better end.'
Whereupon Biancabella, alarmed by this
mighty voice, felt as it were every one
of her hairs standing erect on her head,
but after a moment it seemed to her that
she knew the voice ; so, having plucked
up a little courage, she said : f Who are
you who wander about these woods, pro-
claiming your presence to me by your
kindly and pitiful words ? ' Then the
same voice replied : ' I am Samaritana,
your sister, for whom you have been
calling so long and painfully.' And Bi-
ancabella, when she listened to these
words, answered in a voice all broken by
agonized sobs, and said : ' Alas, my sis-
ter ! come to my aid, I beseech you ; and
if at any past time I have shown myself

THE THIRD FABLE. 327

disregardful of your counsel, I pray you
to pardon me. Indeed I have erred,
and I confess my fault, but my misdeed
was the fruit of my ignorance, and not
of my wickedness ; for be sure, if it had
come from wickedness, divine justice
would not have suffered me, as the author
of it, so long to cumber the earth.' Sama-
ritana, when she heard her sister's woes
set forth in this pitiful story, and wit-
nessed the cruel wrongs that had been
done her, spake some comforting words,
and then, having gathered divers medi-
cinal herbs of wonderful power and virtue,
she spread these over the places where
Biancabella's eyes had been. Then she
brought to her sister two hands, and hav-
ing joined these on to the wounded wrists,
at once made them whole and sound
again. And when she had wrought this
marvellous feat Samari tana threw off from
herself the scaly skin of the serpent, and
stood revealed as a maiden of lovely
aspect.

The sun had already begun to veil its

328 NIGHT THE THIRD.

glittering rays, and the evening shadows
were creeping around, when the old man
with anxious hasty steps returned to the
wood, where he found Biancabella sit-
ting beside a maiden wellnigh as lovely
as herself. And he gazed steadily into
her beauteous face, standing the while
like to a man struck with wonder, and
could scarcely believe it was Biancabella
he looked upon. But when he was sure
it was really she, he cried : c My daughter,
were you not this morning blind and be-
reft of your hands? How comes it that
you have been thus speedily made whole
again ? ' Biancabella answered him : f My
cure has been worked, not by anything
I myself have done, but by the virtue
and the kind ministering of this my dear
sister who sits here beside me.' Where-
upon both the sisters arose from the
place where they were seated, and re-
joicing greatly they went together with
the old man to his house, where the wife
and the three daughters gave them a
most loving and hospitable welcome.

bnA Jj

Biancal

Biancabella After Her Sight And
Hands Were Restored

tf(*

THIRD FABLE

THE THIRD FABLE. 329

It came to pass after the lapse of many
days that Samari tana and Biancabella,and
the old man with his wife and his three
daughters, left their cottage and betook
themselves to the city of Naples, pur-
posing to dwell there, and, when they
had entered the city, they chanced to
come upon a vacant space hard by the
palace of the king, where they determined
to make their resting-place. And when
the dark night had fallen around them,
Samaritana took in her hand a twig of
laurel and thrice struck the earth there-
with, uttering certain mystic words the
while, and almost before the sound of
these words had ceased there sprang up
forthwith before them a palace, the most
beautiful and sumptuous that ever was
seen. The next morning Ferrandino the
king went early to look out of the win-
dow, and when he beheld the rich and
marvellous palace standing where there
had been nothing the night before, he
was altogether overcome with amaze-
ment, and called his wife and his step-

33° NIGHT THE THIRD.

mother to come and see it; but these
were greatly disturbed in mind at the
sight thereof, for a boding came upon
them that some ill was about to befall
them.

While Ferrandino was standing, scan-
ning closely the palace before him, and
examining it in all parts, he lifted his
eyes to a certain window, and there, in
the chamber inside, he beheld two ladies
of a beauty more rich and dazzling than
the sun. And no sooner had his eyes
fallen upon them than he felt a tempest
of passion rising in his heart, for he as-
suredly recognized in one of them some
similitude of that loveliness which had
once been Biancabella's. And when he
asked who they were, and from what
land they had come, the answer which
was given him was that they were two
ladies who had been exiled from their
home, and that they had journeyed from
Persia, with all their possessions, to take
up their abode in the noble city of Na-
ples. When he heard this, Ferrandino

THE THIRD FABLE. 33 1

sent a messenger to inquire whether he
would be doing thjem any pleasure in
waiting upon them, accompanied by the
ladies of his court, to pay them a visit
of welcome, and to this gracious message
they sent an answer, saying that it would
indeed be a very precious honour to be
thus visited by him, but that it would
be more decorous and respectful if they,
as subjects, should pay this duty to him,
than that he, as lord and king, should
visit them.

Hereupon Ferrandino bade them sum-
mon the queen and the other ladies of
the court, and with these (although at
first they refused to go, being so greatly
in fear of their impending ruin) he be-
took himself to the palace of the two
ladies, who, with all friendly signs of
welcome and with modest bearing, gave
him the reception due to a highly hon-
oured guest, showing him the wide log-
gias, and the roomy halls, and the richly
ornamented chambers, the walls of which
were lined with alabaster and fine por-

334 NIGHT THE THIRD.

prepared to put forward anything, I, with
your majesty's leave, will bid come hither
one of our own maidens, whose singing
perchance will give you no little pleas-
ure.' And having summoned the dam-
sel, whose name was Silveria,into the ban-
queting-room, Samaritana commanded
her to take a lyre in her hand and to
sing thereto something in honour of the
king which should b^e worthy of their
praise. And the damsel, obedient to
her lady's command, took her lyre, and,
having placed herself before the king,
sang in a soft and pleasant voice while
she touched the resounding strings with
the plectrum, telling in her chant the
story of Biancabella from beginning to
end, but not mentioning her by name.
When the whole of the story had been
set forth, Samaritana again rose to her
feet, and demanded of the king what
would be the fitting punishment, what
torture would be cruel enough for those
who had put their hands to such an ex-
ecrable crime. Then the stepmother,

THE THIRD FABLE. 335

who deemed that she might perchance
get a release for her misdeeds by a prompt
and ready reply, did not wait for the
king to give his answer, but cried out in
a bold and confident tone, ' Surely to be
cast into a furnace heated red hot would
be but a light punishment for the offences
of such a one.' Then Samaritana, with
her countenance all afire with vengeance
and anger, made answer to her : * Thou
thyself art the very same guilty and bar-
barous woman, through whose nefarious
working all these cruel wrongs have been
done ; and thou, wicked and accursed
one, hast condemned thyself to a right-
eous penalty out of thine own mouth.'
Then Samaritana, turning towards the
king with a look of joy upon her face,
said to him, c Behold ! this is your Bianca-
bella, this is the wife you loved so dearly,
this is she without whom you could not
live.' Then, to prove the truth of her
words, Samaritana gave the word to the
three daughters of the old man that they
should forthwith, in the presence of the

332 NIGHT THE THIRD.

phyry, while about them were to be seen
on all sides carven figures which looked
like life. And when they had exhibited
to the king all parts of the sumptuous
palace, the two fair young women ap-
proached Ferrandino and besought him
most gracefully that he would deign to
come one day with his queen and dine
at their table. The king, whose heart
was not hard enough to remain unaf-
fected by all he had seen, and who was
gifted moreover with a magnanimous and
liberal spirit, graciously accepted the in-
vitation. And when he had tendered
his thanks to the two ladies for the noble
welcome they had given him, he and the
queen departed together and returned to
their own palace. When the day fixed
for the banquet had come, the king and
the queen and the stepmother, clad in
their royal robes and accompanied by
some of the ladies of the court, went to
do honour to the magnificent feast set
out in the most sumptuous fashion. And
after he had given them water to wash

THE THIRD FABLE. 333

their hands, the seneschal bade them con-
duct the king and queen to a table apart,
set somewhat higher, but at the same
time near to the others, and having done
this, he caused all the rest of the guests
to seat themselves according to their
rank, and in this fashion they all feasted
merrily and joyfully together.

When the stately feast had come to
an end and the tables had been cleared,
Samaritana rose from her seat, and turn-
ing towards the king and the queen, spake
thus : 'Your majesties, in order that the
time may not be irksome to us, as it may
if we sit here idle, let one or other of us
propose something in the way of diver-
sion which will let us pass the day pleas-
antly.' And when the guests heard what
Samaritana said, they all agreed that she
had spoken well, but yet there was found
no one bold enough to make such a pro-
position as she had called for. Where-
upon Samaritana, when she perceived
they were all silent, went on : ' Since it
appears that no one of this company is

,

NIGHT THE THIRD.

king, begin to comb Biancabella's fair
and wavy hair, and scarcely had they be-
gun when (as has been told before) there
fell out of her tresses many very precious
and exquisite jewels, and from her hands
came forth roses exhaling the sweet scents
of morning, and all manner of odorifer-
ous flowers. And for yet greater cer-
tainty she pointed out to the king how
the snow-white neck of Biancabella was
encircled by a fine chain of the most
delicately wrought gold, which grew
naturally between the skin and the flesh,
and shone out as through the clearest
crystal.

When the king perceived by these
manifest and convincing signs that she
was indeed his own Biancabella, he began
to weep for the joy he felt, and to embrace
her tenderly. But before he left that
place he caused to be heated hot a fur-
nace, and into this he bade them cast the
stepmother and her two daughters. Thus
their repentance for their crimes came
too late, and they made a miserable end

THE THIRD FABLE. 337

to their lives. And after this the three
daughters of the old man were given
honourably in marriage, and the King
Ferrandino with Biancabella and Samar-
itana lived long and happily, and when
Ferrandino died his son succeeded to
his kingdom.

During the telling of Lauretta's story
divers of the listeners were several times
moved to tears, and,when she had brought
it to an end, the Signora bade her follow
the example of those who had gone
before her, and set forth her enigma.
Therefore she, not waiting for any further
command, gave it in the following words :

A proud and cruel maid I spied,

As through the flowery meads she hied.

Behind her trailed a lengthy train,

Upreared her head in high disdain.

And swiftly on her way she took,

And sharp her touch, and eke her look.

What though her tongue moves all around,

She utters neither voice nor sound.

She is long, and thin, and wise,

He can tell her name who tries.

338 NIGHT THE THIRD.

All the company listened attentively
to the enigma which Lauretta gave to
them in her sportive way, and she, when
she saw there was little likelihood that
anyone would find the solution thereof,
spake thus : { Dear ladies, so as not to
keep you any longer in suspense, or to
weary yet more your minds, which must
needs be somewhat harassed on account
of the pathetic story I have just told
you, I will tell you the answer straight-
way, if such be your pleasure. The
damsel I described therein is nothing
else than the serpent which, when it
goes through the flowery meadows,
keeps its head erect and its tail trailing
on the ground behind it, and frightens
with its sharp eye everyone who may
happen to behold it.'

As soon as Lauretta had finished her
speech everyone was much astonished
that the solution of the riddle had not
been guessed by some one or other.
And when she had resumed her seat
the Signora made a sign to Alteria that

THE FOURTH FABLE. 339

she should tell them her fable, and she,
having risen and made obeisance to the
Signora, began it forthwith.

THE FOURTH FABLE.

jFortumo, on account of an injurg tone to fjim og
fjis supposeb father anb mother, leabes tf)em,
anb after mud) toanbcrt'ng, comes to a tooob,
inhere fje finbs tfjrce animals, fnfjo bo fjfm goob
serbtce. Sftefoarbs fje goes to |9alonta, tofjere
|je gets to tot'fe ©oralfce, t^e fefng's baugfjtn:,
as a rctoarb for tits process.

HERE is a saying, very fre-
quent in the mouths of com-
mon people, that it is not
seemly to jest at affliction nor
to make a mock at the truth ; forasmuch
as he who keeps his eyes and ears open,
and holds his tongue, is not likely to
injure his fellows, and may hope himself
to live in peace.

Once upon a time there lived in one
of the remoter districts of Lombardy a
man called Bernio, who, although he
was not over well endowed with the

340 NIGHT THE THIRD.

gifts of fortune, was held to be in no
way wanting with respect to good quali-
ties of head and heart. This man took
to wife a worthy and amiable woman
named Alchia, who, though she chanced
to be of low origin, was nevertheless of
good parts and exemplary conduct, and
loved her husband as dearly as any
woman could. This married pair greatly
desired to have children, but such a gift
of God was not granted to them, perad-
venture for the reason that man often,
in his ignorance, asks for those things
which would not be to his advantage.
Now, forasmuch as this desire for off-
spring still continued to possess them,
and as fortune obstinately refused to
grant their prayer, they determined at
last to adopt a child whom they would
nurture and treat in every way as if he
were their own legitimate son. So one
morning early they betook themselves
to a certain spot where young children
who had been cast off by their parents
were often left, and, having seen there

THE FOURTH FABLE. 34*

one who appeared to them more seemly
and attractive than the rest, they took
him home with them, and brought him
up with the utmost care and good gov-
ernance. Now after a time it came to
pass (according to the good pleasure of
Him who rules the universe and tem-
pers and modifies everything according
to His will) that Alchia became with
child, and when her time of delivery
was come, was brought to bed with a
boy who resembled his father exactly.
On this account both father and mother
rejoiced exceedingly, and called their
son by the name of Valentino.

The infant was well nurtured, and
grew up strong and healthy and well-
mannered ; moreover, he loved so dearly
his brother — to whom the name of For-
tunio had been given — that he was in-
clined almost to fret himself to death
whenever they chanced to be separated
the one from the other. But the genius
of discord, the foe of everything that is
good, becoming aware of their warm and

342 NIGHT THE THIRD.

loving friendship, and being able no
longer to suffer their good understanding
to continue, one day interposed between
them, and worked her evil will so effec-
tively that before long the two friends
began to taste her bitter fruits. Where-
fore as they were sporting together one
day (after the manner of boys) they grew
somewhat excited over their game, and
Valentino, who could not bear that For-
tunio should get any advantage over him
in their play, became inflamed with vio-
lent anger, and more than once called
his companion a bastard and the son of
a vile woman. Fortunio, when he heard
these words, was much astonished, and
perturbed as well, and turning to Valen-
tino, he said to him, ' And why am I a
bastard ? ' In reply, Valentino, mutter-
ing angrily between his teeth, repeated
what he had already said, and even more.
Whereupon Fortunio, greatly grieved
and disturbed in mind, gave over play-
ing and went forthwith to his so-called
mother, and asked her whether he was

THE FOURTH FABLE. 343

in sooth the son of Bernio and herself.
Alchia answered that he was, and, having
learned that Fortunio had been insulted
by Valentino, she rated the latter soundly,
and declared that she would give him
heavy chastisement if he should repeat
his offence. But the words which Alchia
had spoken roused fresh suspicion in
Fortunio, and made him wellnigh certain
that he was not her legitimate son ; indeed,
there often came upon him the desire to
put her to the test, to see whether she
really was his mother or not, and thus
discover the truth. In the end he ques-
tioned and importuned her so closely
that she acknowledged he was not born
of her, but that he had been adopted and
brought up in their house for the love
of God and for the alleviation of the
misfortune which had been sent upon
herself and her husband. These words
were as so many dagger-thrusts in the
young man's heart, piling up one sorrow
upon another, and at last his grief grew
beyond endurance ; but, seeing that he

344 NIGHT THE THIRD.

could not bring himself to seek refuge
from his trouble by a violent death, he
determined to depart from Bernio's roof,
and, in wandering up and down the world,
to seek a better fortune.

Alchia, when she perceived that For-
tunio's desire to quit the house grew
stronger every day, was greatly incensed
against him, and, as she found herself
powerless to dissuade him from his pur-
pose, she heaped all sorts of curses upon
him, praying that if ever he should ven-
ture upon the sea he might be engulfed
in the waves and swallowed up by the
sirens, as ships are often swallowed up
by storms. Fortunio, driven on by a
headlong access of rage, took no heed
of Alchia's malediction, and, without say-
ing any further words of farewell, either
to her or to Bernio, departed, and took
his way towards the east. He journeyed
on, passing by marshes, by valleys, by
rocks, and all kinds of wild and desert
spots, and at last, one day between sext
and none, he came upon a thick and

THE FOURTH FABLE. 345

densely-tangled forest, in the midst of
which, by strange chance, he found a
wolf and an eagle and an ant, who were
engaged in a long and sharp contention
over the body of a stag which they had
lately captured, without being able to
agree as to how the venison should be
divided amongst themselves. When
Fortunio came upon the three animals
they were in the midst of their stubborn
dispute, and not one was disposed in
any way to yield to the others ; but after
a while they agreed that this young
man, who had thus unexpectedly come
amongst them, should adjudicate the
matter in question, and assign to each
one of them such part of the spoil as he
might deem most fitting. Then, when
they had assented to these preliminaries,
and had promised that they would be
satisfied with and observe the terms of
any award he might make, even though
it might seem to be unjust, Fortunio
readily undertook the task, and after he
had carefully considered the case, he di-

346 NIGHT THE THIRD.

vided the prey amongst them in the
following manner. To the wolf, as to
a voracious animal and one very handy
with his sharp teeth, he gave, as the guer-
don of his toil in the chase, all the bones
of the deer and all the lean flesh. To
the eagle, a rapacious fowl, but furnished
with no teeth, he gave the entrails, and
all the fat lying round the lean parts and
the bones. To the provident and in-
dustrious ant, which had none of that
strength which nature had bestowed up-
on the wolf and the eagle, he gave the
soft brains as her share of reward for the
labour she had undergone. When the
three animals understood the terms of
this just and carefully-considered decis-
ion, they were fully satisfied, and thanked
Fortunio as well as they could for the
courtesy he had shown them.

Now these three animals held — and
with justice — that, of all the vices, in-
gratitude was the most reprehensible ; so
with one accord they insisted that the
young man should not depart until they

THE FOURTH FABLE. 347

should have fully rewarded him for the
great service he had done them. Where-
fore the wolf, speaking first, said: c My
brother, I give you the power, if at any
time the desire should come upon you
to be a wolf instead of a man, to become
one forthwith, merely by saying the
words, "Would that I were a wolf!"
At the same time you will be able to
return to your former shape whenever
you may desire.' And in like manner
both the eagle and the ant endowed him
with power to take upon him their form
and similitude.

Then Fortunio, rejoicing greatly at
the potent virtues thus given to him,
and rendering to all three of the animals
the warmest gratitude for their boon,
took his leave and wandered far abroad,
until at last he came to Polonia, a popu-
lous city of great renown, which was at
that time under the rule of Odescalco, a
powerful and valorous sovereign, who had
but one child, a daughter called Doralice.
Now the king was ambitious to find a

34$ NIGHT THE THIRD.

noble mate for this princess, and it chanced
that, at the time when Fortunio arrived
in Polonia, he had proclaimed through-
out his kingdom that a grand tournament
should be held in the city, and that the
Princess Doralice should be given in
marriage to the man who should be the
victor in the jousts. And already many
dukes and marquises and other power-
ful nobles had come together from all
parts to contend for this noble prize, and
on the first day of the tournament, which
had already passed, the honours of the
tilting were borne off by a foul Saracen
of hideous aspect and ungainly form,
and with a face as black as pitch. The
king's daughter, when she viewed the
deformed and unseemly figure of the
conqueror of the day, was overwhelmed
with grief that fate should have awarded
to such a one the victory in the joust,
and, burying her face, which was crimson
with shame, in her tender delicate hands,
she wept and lamented sore, execrating
her cruel and malignant destiny, and beg-

THE FOURTH F/tBLE. 349

ging that death might take her rather
than that she should become the wife of
this misshapen barbarian. Fortunio,
when he entered the city gate, noted the
festal array on all sides and the great
concourse of people about the streets,
and when he learned the cause of all this
magnificent display he was straightway
possessed with an ardent desire to prove
his valour by contending in the tourna-
ment, but when he came to consider that
he was lacking in all the apparel needful
in such honourable contests, his heart
fell and heavy sorrow came over him.
While he was in this doleful mood it
chanced that his steps led him past the
palace of the king, and raising his eyes
from the ground he espied Doralice, the
daughter of the king, who was leaning
out of one of the windows of her apart-
ment. She was surrounded by a group of
lovely and highborn dames and maidens,
but she shone out amongst them all on
account of her beauty, as the radiant glo-
rious sun shines out amidst the lesser
lights of heaven.

35° NIGHT THE THIRD.

By-and-by, when the dark night had
fallen, and all the ladies of the court had
retired to their apartments, Doralice,
restless and sad at heart, betook herself
alone to a small and exquisitely orna-
mented chamber and gazed once more
out into the night, and there below, as
luck would have it, was Fortunio. When
the youth saw her standing solitary at
the open window, he was so overcome by
the charms of her beauty that he forth-
with whispered to himself in an amorous
sigh : f Ah ! wherefore am I not an
eagle ? ' Scarcely had these words issued
from his lips when he found himself trans-
formed into an eagle, whereupon he flew
at once into the window of the chamber,
and, having willed to become a man
again, was restored to his own shape.
He went forward with a light and joyful
air to greet the princess, but she, as soon
as she saw him, was rilled with terror and
began to cry out in a loud voice, just as
if she were being attacked and torn by
savage dogs. The king, who happened

THE FOURTH FABLE. 35*

to be in an apartment not far distant from
his daughter's, heard her cries of alarm
and ran immediately to seek the cause
thereof, and, having heard from her that
there was a young man in the room, he
at once ordered it to be searched in every
part. But nothing of the sort was found,
because Fortunio had once more changed
himself into an eagle and had flown out
of the window. Hardly, however, had
the father gone back to his chamber when
the maiden began to cry aloud just the
same as before, because, forsooth, For-
tunio had once more come into her pres-
ence.

But Fortunio, when he again heard
the terrified cries of the maiden, began to
fear for his life, and straightway changed
himself into an ant, and crept into hid-
ing beneath the blond tresses of the
lovely damsel's hair. Odescalco, hear-
ing the loud outcries of his daughter,
ran to her succour, but when he found
nothing more this second time than he
had found before, he was greatly incensed

352 NIGHT THE THIRD.

against her, and threatened her harshly
that if she should cry out again and dis-
turb him he would play her some trick
which would not please her, and thus
he left her with angry words, suspecting
that what had caused her trouble was
some vision of one or other of the youths
who for love of her had met their deaths
in the tournament. Fortunio listened
attentively to what the king said to his
daughter, and, as soon as he had left the
apartment, once more put off the shape
of an ant and stood revealed in his own
form. Doralice, who in the meanwhile
had gone to bed, was so terror-stricken
when she saw him that she tried to spring
from her couch and to give the alarm,
but she was not able to do this, because
Fortunio placed one of his hands on her
lips, and thus spake : f Signora, fear not
that I have come here to despoil you of
your honour, or to steal aught that be-
longs to you. I am come rather to suc-
cour you to the best of my power, and
to proclaim myself your most humble

THE FOURTH FABLE. 353

servant. If you cry out, one or other
of two misfortunes will befall us, either
your honour and fair name will be tar-
nished, or you will be the cause of your
death and of my own. Therefore, dear
lady of my heart, take care lest at the
same time you cast a stain upon your
reputation and imperil the lives of us
both.'

While Fortunio was thus speaking,
Doralice was weeping bitterly, her pres-
ence of mind being completely over-
thrown by this unexpected declaration
on his part, and the young man, when
he perceived how powerfully agitated she
was, went on addressing her in words
gentle and persuasive enough to have
melted the heart of a stone. At last,
conquered by his words and tender man-
ner, she softened towards him, and con-
sented to let him make his peace with
her. And after a little, when she saw
how handsome the youth was in face,
and how strong and well knit in body
and limb, she fell a-thinking about the

354 NIGHT THE THIRD.

ugliness and deformity of the Saracen,
who, as the conqueror in the jousts, must
before long be the master of her person.
While these thoughts were passing
through her mind the young man said
to her : ' Dear lady, if I had the fitting
equipment, how willingly would I enter
the jousts to tilt on your behalf, and my
heart tells me that, were I to contend, I
should surely conquer.' Whereupon
the damsel in reply said : ' If this, in-
deed, were to come to pass, if you should
prove victorious in the lists, I would give
myself to you alone.' And when she
saw what a well-disposed youth he was,
and how ardent in her cause, she brought
forth a great quantity of gems and a
heavy purse of gold, and bade him take
them. Fortunio accepted them with his
heart full of joy, and inquired of her what
garb she wished him to wear in the lists
to-morrow. And she bade him array
himself in white satin, and in this matter
he did as she commanded him.

On the following day Fortunio, en-

THE FOURTH FABLE. 355

cased in polished armour, over which he
wore a surcoat of white satin richly em-
broidered with the finest gold, and
studded with jewels most delicately car-
ven, rode into the piazza unknown to
anybody there present. He was mounted
on a powerful and fiery charger, which
was caparisoned and decked in the same
colours as its rider. The crowd, which
had already come together to witness the
grand spectacle of the tournament, no
sooner caught sight of the gallant un-
known champion, with lance in hand all
ready for the fray, than every person was
lost in wonderment at so brave a sight,
and each one, gazing fixedly at Fortu-
nio, and astonished at his grace, began
to inquire of his neighbour : l Ah ! who
can this knight be who rides so gallantly
and splendidly arrayed into the lists ?
Know you not what is his name? ' In
the meantime Fortunio, having entered
the lists, called upon some rival to ad-
vance, and for the first course the Sara-
cen presented himself, whereupon the

356 NIGHT THE THIRD.

two champions, keeping low the points
of their trusty lances, rushed one upon
the other like two lions loosened from
their bonds, and so shrewd was the stroke
dealt by Fortunio upon the head of the
Saracen, that the latter was driven right
over the crupper of his horse, and fell
dead upon the bare earth, mangled and
broken up as a fragile glass is broken
when it is thrown against a wall. And
Fortunio ran his course just as victori-
ously in encountering every other cham-
pion who ventured to oppose him in the
lists. The damsel, when she saw how
the fortune of the day was going, was
greatly rejoiced, and kept her eyes stead-
ily fixed on Fortunio in deepest admi-
ration, and, thanking God in her heart
for having thus graciously delivered her
from the bondage of the Saracen, prayed
to Him that this brave youth might be
the final victor.

When the night had come they bade
Doralice come to supper with the rest of
the court ; but to this bidding she made

THE FOURTH FABLE. 357

demur, and commanded them bring her
certain rich viands and delicate wines to
her chamber, feigning that she had not
yet any desire for food, but would eat,
perchance, later on if any appetite should
come upon her. Then, having locked
herself in her chamber and opened the
window thereof, she watched with ardent
desire for the coming of her lover, and
when he had gained admittance to the
chamber by the same means as he had
used the previous day, they supped
joyfully together. Then Fortunio de-
manded of her in what fashion she would
that he should array himself for the mor-
row, and she made answer that he must
bear a badge of green satin all embroid-
ered with the finest thread of silver and
gold, and that his horse should be capar-
isoned in like manner. On the follow-
ing morning Fortunio appeared, attired
as Doralice had directed, and, having
duly presented himself in the piazza at
the appointed time, he entered the lists
and proved himself again as valiant a

358 NIGHT THE THIRD.

champion as he had proved to be on the
day before. So great was the admiration
of the people of his prowess, that the
shout went up with one voice that he
had worthily won the gracious princess
for his bride.

On the evening of that day the prin-
cess, full of merriment and happiness and
joyous expectations, made the same pre-
text for absenting herself from supper as
she had made the day before, and, hav-
ing locked the door of her chamber,
awaited there the coming of her lover,
and supped pleasantly with him. And
when he asked her once more with what
vestments he should clothe himself on
the following day, she answered that she
wished him to wear a surcoat of crimson
satin, all worked and embroidered with
gold and pearls, and to see that the trap-
pings of his horse were made in the same
fashion ; adding that she herself would,
on the morrow, be clad in similar wise.
{ Lady,' replied Fortunio, 'if by any
chance I should tarry somewhat in mak-

THE FOURTH FABLE, 359

ing my entry into the lists, be not aston-
ished, for I shall not be late without good
cause.'

When the morning of the third day
had come, the spectators awaited the is-
sue of the momentous strife with the
most earnest expectation, but, on account
of the inexhaustible valour of the gallant
unknown champion, there was no oppo-
nent found who dared to enter the lists
against him, and he himself for some
hidden reason did not appear. After
a time the spectators began to grow
impatient at his non-appearance, and in-
jurious words were dropped. Even Do-
ralice herself was assailed by suspicions
as to his worth, although she had been
warned by Fortunio himself that prob-
ably his coming would be delayed: so,
overcome by this hidden trouble of hers
— concerning which no one else knew
anything — she wellnigh swooned with
grief. At last, when it was told to her
that the unknown knight was advancing
into the piazza, her failing senses be-

360 NIGHT THE THIRD.

gan to revive. Fortunio was clad in a
rich and sumptuous dress, and the trap-
pings of his horse were of the finest cloth
of gold, all embroidered with shining
rubies and emeralds and sapphires and
great pearls. When the people saw these
they affirmed that the price of them
would be equal to a great kingdom, and
when Fortunio came into the piazza,
every one cried out in a loud voice :
* Long live the unknown knight ! ' and
after this they all applauded vigorously
and clapped their hands. Then the
jousting began, and Fortunio once more
carried himself so valiantly that he bore
to earth all those who dared to oppose
him, and in the end was hailed as the vic-
tor in the tournament. And when he
had dismounted from his noble horse, the
chief magnates and the wealthy citizens
of the town bore him aloft on their
shoulders, and to the sound of trumpets
and all other kinds of musical instru-
ments, and with loud shouts which went
up to the heavens, they carried him into

THE FOURTH FABLE.

the presence of the king. When they
had taken off his helmet and his shining
armour the king perceived what a seemly
graceful youth he was, and, having called
his daughter into his presence, he be-
trothed them forthwith, and celebrated
the nuptials with the greatest pomp, keep-
ing open table at the court for the space
of a month.

After Fortunio had lived for a certain
space of time in loving dalliance with his
fair wife, he was seized one day with the
thought that he was playing the part of
an unworthy sluggard in thus passing the
days in indolence, merely counting the
hours as they sped by, after the manner
of foolish folk, and of those who consider
not the duties of a man. Wherefore he
made up his mind to go afield into cer-
tain regions, where there might be found
due scope and recognition for his valour
and enterprise; so, having got ready a
galley and taken a large treasure which
his father-in-law had given him, he em-
barked after taking leave of his wife and

NIGHT THE THIRD.

of King Odescalco. He sailed away,
wafted on by gentle and favourable
breezes, until he came into the Atlantic
Ocean, but before he had gone more
than ten miles thereon, there arose from
the waves the most beautiful Siren that
ever was seen, and singing softly, she
began to swim towards the ship. For-
tunio, who was reclining by the side of
the galley, bent his head low down over
the water to listen to her song, and
straightway fell asleep, and, while he thus
slept, the Siren drew him gently from
where he lay, and, bearing him in her
arms, sank with him headlong into the
depths of the sea. The mariners, after
having vainly essayed to save him, broke
out into loud lamentations over his sad
fate, and, weeping and mourning, they
decked the galley with black ensigns of
grief, and returned to the unfortunate
Odescalco to tell him of the terrible mis-
chance which had befallen them during
their voyage. The king and Doralice,
when the sad news was brought to them,

THE FOURTH FABLE.

were overwhelmed with the deepest grief
— as indeed was everyone else in the
city — and all put on garments of mourn-
ing black.

Now at the time of Fortunio's depar-
ture Doralice was with child, and when
the season of her delivery had come she
gave birth to a beautiful boy, who was
delicately and carefully nurtured until
he came to be two years of age. At
this time the sad and despairing Dora-
lice, who had always brooded over her
unhappy fate in losing the company of
her beloved husband, began to aban-
don all hope of ever seeing him again ;
so she, like a brave and great-souled
woman, resolved to put her fortune to
the test and go to seek for him upon
the deep, even though the king her
father should not consent to let her
depart. So she caused to be set in order
for her voyage an armed galley, well
fitted for such a purpose, and she took
with her three apples, each one a master-
piece of handicraft, of which one was

NIGHT THE THIRD.

fashioned out of golden bronze, another
of silver, and the last of the finest gold.
Then, having taken leave of her father
the king, she embarked with her child
on board the galley, and sailed away
before a prosperous wind into the open
sea.

After the sad and woe-stricken lady
had sailed a certain time over the calm
sea, she bade the sailors steer the ship
forthwith towards the spot where her
husband had been carried off by the
Siren, and this commaad they immedi-
ately obeyed. And when the vessel
had been brought to the aforesaid spot,
the child began to cry fretfully, and
would in no wise be pacified by his
mother's endearments ; so she gave him
the apple which was made of golden
bronze to appease him. While the child
was thus sporting with the apple, he was
espied by the Siren, who, having come
near to the galley and lifted her head a
little space out of the foaming waves,
thus spake to Doralice : * Lady, give me

THE FOURTH FABLE. 365

that apple, for I desire greatly to have
it.' But the princess answered her that
this thing could not be done, inasmuch
as the apple was her child's plaything.
' If you will consent to give it to me,'
the Siren went on, f I will show you the
husband you have lost as far as his
breast.' Doralice, when she heard these
words, at once took the apple from the
child and handed it courteously to the
Siren, for she longed above all things
else to get sight of her beloved husband.

The Siren was faithful to her promise,
and after a little time brought Fortunio
to the surface of the sea and showed him
as far as the breast to Doralice, as a
reward for the gift of the apple, and
then plunged with him once more into
the depths of the ocean, and disappeared
from sight.

Doralice, who had naturally feasted
her eyes upon the form of her husband
what time he was above the water, only
felt the desire to see him once more
grow stronger after he was gone under

366 NIGHT THE THIRD.

again, and, not knowing what to do or
to say, she sought comfort in the ca-
resses of her child, and when the little
one began to cry once more, the mother
gave to it the silver apple to soothe its
fancy. Again the Siren was on the watch
and espied the silver apple in the child's
hand, and having raised her head above
the waves, begged Doralice to give her
the apple, but the latter, shrugging her
shoulders, said that the apple served to
divert the child, and could not be spared.
Whereupon the Siren said : f If only
you will give me this apple, which is far
more beautiful than the other, I promise
I will show you your husband as far as
his knees.' Poor Doralice, who was
now consumed with desire to see her
beloved husband again, put aside the
satisfaction of the child's fancy, and,
having taken away from him the silver
apple, handed it eagerly to the Siren,
who, after she had once more brought
Fortunio to the surface and exhibited
him to Doralice as far as his knees (ac-

THE FOURTH FABLE.

cording to her promise), plunged again
beneath the waves.

For a while the princess sat brooding
in silent grief and suspense, trying in
vain to hit upon some plan by which
she might rescue her husband from his
piteous fate, and at last she caught up
her child in her arms and tried to com-
fort herself with him and to still his
weeping. The child, mindful of the fair
apple he had been playing with, contin-
ued to cry ; so the mother, to appease
him, gave him at last the apple of fine
gold. When the covetous Siren, who
was still watching the galley, saw this
apple, and perceived that it was much
fairer than either of the others, she at
once demanded it as a gift from Dora-
lice, and she begged so long and per-
sistently, and at last made a promise to
the princess that, in return for the gift
of this apple, she would bring Fortunio
once more into the light, and show him
from head to foot; so Doralice took
the apple from the boy, in spite of his

NIGHT THE THIRD.

chiding, and gave it to the Siren. Where-
upon the latter, in order to carry out
her promise, came quite close to the
galley, bearing Fortunio upon her back,
and having raised herself somewhat
above the surface of the water, showed
the person of Fortunio from head to
foot. Now, as soon as Fortunio felt
that he was quite clear of the water, and
resting free upon the back of the Siren,
he was filled with great joy in his heart,
and, without hesitating for a moment,
he cried out, * Ah ! would that I were
an eagle,' and scarcely had he ceased
speaking when he was forthwith trans-
formed into an eagle, and, having poised
himself for flight, he flew high above
the sail yards of the galley, from whence
— all the shipmen looking on the while
in wonder — he descended into the ship
and returned to his proper shape, and
kissed and embraced his wife and his
child and all the sailors on the galley.

Then, all of them rejoicing at the
rescue of Fortunio, they sailed back to

Fortunio Disguised As An Eagle
Escapes From The Siren

FOURTH FABLE

THE FOURTH FABLE.

King Odescalco's kingdom, and as soon
as they entered the port they began to
play upon the trumpets and tabors and
drums and all the other musical instru-
ments they had with them, so that the
king, when he heard the sound of these,
was much astonished, and in the greatest
suspense waited to learn what might be
the meaning thereof. And before very
long time had elapsed the herald came
before him, and announced to the king
how his dear daughter, having rescued
her husband from the Siren, had come
back. When they were disembarked
from the galley, they all repaired to the
royal palace, where their return was
celebrated by sumptuous banquets and
rejoicings. But after some days had
passed, Fortunio betook himself for a
while to his old home, and there, after
having transformed himself into a wolf,
he devoured Alchia, his adoptive mother,
and Valentino her son, in revenge for
the injuries they had worked him. Then,
after he had returned to his rightful shape,

370 NIGHT THE THIRD.

he mounted his horse and rode back to
his father-in-law's kingdom, where, with
Doralice his dear wife, he lived in peace
for many years to the great delight of
both of them.

As soon as Alteria had brought to an
end her long and interesting story the
Signora bade her at once to set forth
her enigma, and she, smiling pleasantly,
obeyed the command.

Far from this our land doth dwell
One who by turns is fair or fell;
Springing from a twofold root,
One part woman, one part brute.
Now like beauty's fairest jewel,
Now a monster fierce and cruel.
Sweetest song on vocal breath,
To lead men down to shameful death.

Alteria's most fitting and noteworthy
enigma was answered in divers fashion
by the listeners, some giving one inter-
pretation of it and some another, but not
one of them came upon its exact mean-
ing. Therefore, when the fair Alteria
saw there was little chance of anyone

THE FOURTH FABLE. 37 l

finding the true answer, she said : " Ladies
and gentlemen, the real subject of my
enigma is the fascinating Siren who is
fabled to dwell in the deep sea. She is
very fair to look upon, for her head and
breast and body and arms are those of
a beautiful damsel, but all the rest of
her form is scaly like a fish, and in her
nature she is cunning and cruel. She
sings so sweetly that the mariners, when
they hear her song, are soothed to slum-
ber, and while they sleep she drowns
them in the sea." When the listeners
heard this clever and subtle solution
given by Alteria, they praised it warmly
with one accord, declaring the while that
it was most ingenious. And she, smiling
with pleasure and gratitude, rose from
her chair and thanked them for their
kindness in thus lending their attention
to her story. As soon as she had taken
her seat, the Signora made a sign to Eri-
trea to follow in the due order with her
story, and she, blushing like a morning
rose, began it in these words.

372 NIGHT THE THIRD.

THE FIFTH FABLE.

jisotta, tfte foife of Eucaferro Stlbani of Bergamo,
oebises fjotn sfje mag trick 2Era&agIfno tfje cofo=
fjero of fjer bratfjer (Kmilliano ano tfjerebg sfjofo
fjim to be a If at, but sfje loses ^er fjusbantj's
farm ano returns fjome inorsteo m fjer attempt,
ano bringing init^ !jer a bull's fjeao toit^

[O great is the strength of truth,
our infallible guide, that, ac-
cording to the testimony of
Holy Writ, it would be easier
for heaven and earth to pass away than
for truth to fail. And so far-reaching a
charter has truth, as is written by all the
wise men of the world, that she is ever
the victor of time, and time never victor
over her. Like as oil, if it be poured
in a vessel together with water, will al-
ways rise to the top, so will truth always
assert herself over falsehood. Where-
fore on this account let no one be amazed
over this prologue of mine, seeing that

THE FIFTH FABLE. 373

I have set it down, moved thereto by
the malignity of a wicked woman, who,
deeming that she might, by the means
of her false allurements, lead on a young
fellow to tell a lie, only induced him to
speak the plain truth to her own con-
fusion, the which, wicked woman as she
was, she well merited. All this I pro-
pose to set before you in this story of
mine, which I hope, both as to time and
place, will prove more profitable than
hurtful to all of you.

I will first tell my worthy hearers that
in Bergamo, an ancient city of Lombardy,
there lived not a great time ago a man of
wealth and standing whose name was Pie-
tromaria di Albini. To this man were
born two sons, of whom one was called
Emilliano, and the other Lucaferro. He
possessed also two farms in a township not
far removed, one of them known by the
name of Ghorem, and the other by that
of Pedrench. The two brothers, that is
to say, Emilliano and Lucaferro, divided
the farms between them by lot after the

374 NIGHT THE THIRD.

death of Pietromaria their father, and
Pedrench fell to the share of Emilliano,
and Ghorem to Lucaferro. Now Emilli-
ano owned a very fine flock of sheep, and
a herd of lusty young bullocks, and like-
wise a second herd of productive cows,
and over the whole of these cattle one
Travaglino had charge as herdsman, a
man of the most approved truth and loy-
alty, who, however dear he held his life,
would not have told a lie to save it, and
who, moreover, as a herdsman had not
his equal in all the world. With his herd
of cows, Travaglino kept several very fine
bulls, amongst which there was one es-
pecially beautiful in appearance, and so
great a favourite was this bull with Emil-
liano that he caused its horns to be gilded
over with the finest gold. And as often
as Travaglino might go to Bergamo after
his affairs, Emilliano would never fail to
question him as to the welfare of his fa-
vourite bull with the gilded horns.

It happened one day that while Emil-
liano was entertaining and holding con-

THE FIFTH FABLE. 375

verse with his brother Lucaferro and with
divers other of his friends, Travaglino
came anigh the company and made a sign
to Emilliano his master that he wanted
to speak with him. Whereupon the lat-
ter forthwith withdrew from the presence
of his brother and his friends, and hav-
ing gone apart with Travaglino, held him
there some long time in conversation.
And after this it would happen full often
that Emilliano would do the like, and
leave his friends and family who might be
about him, and betake himself aside to
confer with his herdsman ; so that at last
Lucaferro, his brother, lost patience at
such doings, and could endure them no
longer. On one occasion, therefore, hot
with wrath and indignation, he spake to
Emilliano in these words : c Emilliano, I
am astonished beyond measure at your
behaviour, that you make more account
of this rascally cowherd of yours than
you make of your own brother and of
your many trusted friends ; because, for-
sooth, not once, but a thousand times, if

376 NIGHT THE THIRD.

I may so express myself, you have gone
away from us when we were together in
the piazza, or over our games, as if we had
been so many beasts only fit to be driven
to the shambles, to go and foregather
with this lubberly ruffian of a Travaglino,
your hireling, and to have long converse
with him, making believe that the affairs
you had to discuss with him were of the
highest importance, while in fact nothing
you talked about mattered a single straw.'
To this Emilliano made answer : * Luca-
ferro, my good brother, there is surely no
need for you to fly into so hot a passion
with me, while you heap all these inju-
rious words upon poor Travaglino, who,
after all, is a very worthy young fellow,
and one on whom I set great store, both
on account of his efficiency in his calling
and for his staunch loyalty towards my-
self; moreover, he has yet another and
special good quality, inasmuch as he
would not, to gain all the wealth there is
in the world, speak a word which was not
the truth. And furthermore he has many

THE FIFTH FABLE. 377

other excellent traits on account of which
I hold him in high esteem ; therefore
there is no reason why you should be
astonished at my fondness for him, or
that I should treat him kindly.'

This answer given by Emilliano only
served to stir yet deeper his brother's
bile, and they straightway began to bandy
angry words from one to the other, so
that they narrowly escaped coming to
blows. In the end Lucaferro, on account
of the high commendation pronounced
by Emilliano over Travaglino's good
qualities — the which is written above —
thus spake : f You speak loud enough to-
day of the efficiency, and the good faith,
and the truthfulness of this cowherd of
yours, but I tell you that he is the most
bungling, the most disloyal loon in the
world, as well as the biggest liar that na-
ture ever made. And moreover I will
pledge myself to bring all this to your
notice, and to let you hear him tell a
falsehood before your very face.' After
they had spent much time in wrangling,

3/8 NIGHT THE THIRD.

they ended by wagering their respective
farms over the question, settling the af-
fair in this fashion, namely, that if Tra-
vaglino should be proved to be a liar, the
farm of Emilliano should pass to Luca-
ferro ; but if on the other hand, he should
be found truthful, Emilliano should be-
come the owner of Lucaferro's. And
over this matter, having called in a no-
tary, they caused to be drawn up a legal
instrument ratified by all the forms which
are required in such cases.

After the brothers had parted one from
the other, and after their wrath and in-
dignation had gone down somewhat, Lu-
caferro began to be sore repentant of the
wager he had made, and of the legal in-
strument he had requested to be enacted
under the seal of the notary. Where-
fore he found himself mightily troubled
over the affair, and haunted by the fear
lest at the end of it he might find him-
self deprived of his farm, out of which
alone he had to find sustenance for him-
self and for his family. One day, when

THE FIFTH FABLE. 379

he was in his house, his wife, whose
name was Isotta, remarked that he was
in a very melancholy mood, and not
knowing the reason thereof, she said to
him : * Heigho, my good husband ! what
can be the matter with you that you are
so dismal and woebegone?' And Luca-
ferro made answer to her: fWife, hold
your tongue, for goodness sake, and do
not heap any fresh trouble upon me in
addition to what I am plagued with al-
ready.' Whereupon Isotta began to be
very curious to know what this trouble
might be, and she plied her husband so
skilfully with questions that in the end
he told her everything. Then she said
to him, with her face all radiant with
joy and satisfaction : 'And is it really on
account of this apprehension that you
have got into such a taking of fear and
agitation? Keep up a good heart, for
you will see that I have wit enough in
me to make this lout Travaglino tell to
his master's face, not one lie, but a thou-
sand.' And Lucaferro, when he heard
these words, was much comforted.

380 NIGHT THE THIRD.

Isotta, knowing perfectly well that the
beautiful bull with the gilded horns was
an especial favourite of Emilliano, her
brother-in-law, determined, first of all,
to lay out her lures in that direction.
So, having dressed herself after a fash-
ion calculated to kindle a man's desire,
and daintly painted her face, she took
her way by herself out of Bergamo and
went to Pedrench, where was situated
the farm of Emilliano, and, having gone
into the farmhouse, she found therein
Travaglino, who was busy making cheese
and curds of butter-milk, and greeted
him, saying : * Travaglino, my good fel-
low, you see I am come to pay you a
visit, to take a draught of milk and to
eat some of your fine curds.' ' Indeed,
I am very glad to see you, my mistress,'
Travaglino replied, and, having made
her sit down, he began to get ready the
table, and to place thereon his cheese of
ewe's milk and divers other good cheer,
to do the lady honour. And after a
while the youth, seeing her there all

THE FIFTH FABLE. 3Sl

alone and very fair to look upon, was
somewhat taken aback, forasmuch as it
was in no way her wont thus to visit
him, and could hardly persuade himself
that she could be in truth Isotta, the
wife of his master's brother. However,
because he had often before seen her, he
did his best to please her and to pay her
such honour as would have been due
to any lady, let her be whosoever she
might.

After the meal was despatched and
the table cleared, Isotta, observing that
Travaglino was about to go to his
cheese-making and to strain his whey,
said to him : { Travaglino, my good
fellow, I would fain lend you a hand
in making your cheese.' And he an-
swered her: 'Yes, if it would please
you, signora.' Then, without saying an-
other word, she tucked up her sleeves as
far as her elbows, thus laying bare her
fair, wanton, well-rounded arms, which
shone out as white as snow, and set to
work with a will to help Travaglino to

NIGHT THE THIRD.

make his cheese, letting him now and
again get a peep at her swelling bosom,
where he might also see her breasts, which
seemed as round and firm as two fair
globes. And, besides this, she artfully
brought her own rosy cheek mighty close
to Travaglino's face, so that occasionally
one touched the other. Now,Travaglino,
notwithstanding that he was only a sim-
ple countryman and a cowherd, was by
no means wanting in wit, and, although
he understood well enough from the
looks and the demeanour of the lady
that she was fired by lecherous passion, he
did nothing more in the way of a return
than beguile her by ordinary speech and
glances, making believe the while to wot
nothing of making love. But Isotta,
who began to persuade herself that the
young man was all on fire with love for
her, felt herself straightway so mightily
inflamed with amorous desire toward
him that she could with difficulty hold
herself within bounds. Although Tra-
vaglino perceived well enough what was

Isotta And Travaglino

FIFTH FABLE

THE FIFTH FABLE.

the drift of the lady's lascivious wishes,
he did not dare to say a word to her
thereanent, fearing lest he might unduly
trouble her and perhaps give offence.
Wherefore the lovesick dame, by way
of making an end of Travaglino's bash-
ful dallying, said to him : * Travaglino,
what is the reason that you stand there
so mum and thoughtful, and do not
venture to say a word to me ? Perad-
venture there has come into your head
the wish to ask some favour of me.
Take good care and do not keep your
desire a secret, whatever it may be, since
by so doing you will work an injury to
yourself, and not me, seeing that I am
completely at your pleasure and wish.'
Travaglino, when he heard these words,
put on a more sprightly manner and
made a pretence of being greatly wishful
to enjoy her. The besotted dame, when
she saw that the young man at last gave
signs of being moved to amorous intent,
determined that the time had come to
set about the business on which she was

NIGHT THE THIRD.

bent, so she spake to him thus : f Tra-
vaglino, I am going to ask you to do
me a great favour, and, if you should be
churlish enough to refuse to grant it, I
tell you plainly that it will look as if
you held very light the love I bear you ;
moreover, your refusal will perchance
be the cause of my ruin, or even of my
death.'

To this speech Travaglino answered :
< Signora, for the love I have for you I
am ready to devote my life and all I pos-
sess in the world to your service, and if
it should chance that you demand of me
to carry out some enterprise of great
difficulty, nevertheless, on account of my
own love and of the love which you have
shown for me, I will easily accomplish it.'
Then Isotta, taking courage from these
words of Travaglino, said : c If indeed
you are my friend, as I well believe you
to be, I shall know full soon.' * Lay
what command on me you will, signora,'
replied Travaglino, ' and you will see
clearly enough whether I am your friend

THE FIFTH FABLE. 385

or not.' ' All that I want of you, said
Isotta, 'is the head of that bull of yours
which has his horns gilded. Give me
this, and you may do with me what you
please.' Travaglino, when he heard this
request, was well-nigh overcome with
amazement ; but, inflamed by the pricks
of fleshly desire, and by the allurements
of the lustful woman before him, he made
answer to her : ( Signora, can it be that
this is all you want of me ? You shall
have, not only the head of the bull, but
the body as well ; nay, I will hand over
my own self into your keeping.' And
after he had thus spoken, Travaglino
plucked up heart and folded the lady in
his arms, and they together took part in
the sweetest delights of love. When
this was done, Travaglino cut off the bull's
head, and, having put it in a sack, handed
it over to Isotta, who, well satisfied that
she had accomplished her purpose and
got much pleasure and delight besides,
made her way back to her house, bearing
with her more horns than farms in her
sack.

NIGHT THE THIRD.

Now Travaglino, as soon as the lady
had taken her departure, began to feel
somewhat troubled in mind and to cast
about for some excuse which he might
bring forward to his master when he
should be called upon to account for the
death of the bull with the gilded horns,
which was so greatly beloved by Emilli-
ano. While the wretched Travaglino was
held by these torments of his mind, know-
ing neither what to say or to do, it came
into his head at last to take a branch of
one of the pruned trees which grew about,
and to dress this up with some of his
own poor garments, and to make believe
that it was Emilliano. Then, standing
before this scarecrow, he proposed to
make trial of what he should do and say
when he should be brought face to face
with his master. Wherefore, after he
had set up the tree branch thus bediz-
ened in a chamber of the house with his
own cap on its head and with certain of
his garments upon its back, Travaglino
went out from the chamber for a short

THE FIFTH FABLE. 387

space of time, and then came back and
entered, saluting the branch as he went
in, and saying, ' Good day, my master ! '
and then, making answer out of his own
mouth, he replied, ' I am glad to see
you, Travaglino. How do you find
yourself, and how are things going on
at the farm ? It is a long time since I
have seen anything of you.' ' I am very
well,' replied Travaglino, c but I have
been so busy of late that I have not been
able to find time to come and see you.'
'How did you leave the bull with the
gilded horns? ' asked Emilliano,and then
Travaglino made as if he would answer:
' Master, I have to tell you that your fa-
vourite bull has been eaten of wolves
while he was straying in the woods.'
* Then where are his skin and his gilded
horns ? ' Emilliano inquired. And when
he had come to this point poor Trava-
glino could not hit upon any answer he
could possibly give; so, wellnigh over-
come with grief, he left the chamber.
After a little he came in again and recom-

388 NIGHT THE THIRD.

menced his discourse by saying, ' God
keep us all, good master ! ' * And you
also, Travaglino,' said Emilliano, c and
how prosper things at the farm ? how is
the bull with the gilded horns ? ' c I am
very well,' said Travaglino, c but one
day lately the bull broke out of the yard,
and having fallen a-fighting with some
of the other bulls, was so heavily mauled
by them that he died of his injuries
straightway.' c Then where are his skin
and his gilded horns ? ' asked Emilliano.
Whereupon Travaglino knew no better
what answer he should give to this ques-
tion than before. Finally, having gone
through the same discourse several times,
he had to give up the matter in despair,
through not being able to devise any
reply which sounded at all reasonable.
Now Isotta, as soon as she had re-
turned to her house, said to her husband :
c What will that poor lout Travaglino
do when he shall set about excusing him-
self to Emilliano with regard to the death
of that bull with the gilded horns which

THE FIFTH FABLE. 389

was such a pet with his master? How
will he clear himself of such a trouble as
this without telling a lie or two ? See,
here is the head of the bull, which I have
brought back with me to use as a testi-
mony against him when he shall begin
with his false tales.' But the dame said
not a word to her husband as to how
she had made for his own benefit two
fine horns, bigger than those of a hart
royal. Lucaferro, when he saw the bull's
head, was overjoyed and could hardly
contain himself for glee, making sure
that he wrould now win his wager, but
the issue of the affair fell out in mighty
different fashion, as you will learn later
on.

Travaglino, after he had essayed divers
bouts of questions and answers with his
scarecrow man, discoursing just as if he
were in conversation with the master him-
self, and finding in the end that they
none of them would serve the end he
had in view, made up his mind without
further ado to go and seek his master

39° NIGHT THE THIRD.

forthwith, no matter what might happen.
Wherefore, having set forth towards Ber-
gamo, he presented himself before his
master, to whom he gave a hearty salute.
Emilliano, after he had greeted his herds-
man in return, said to him, { And what
business has been taking up all your time
and thoughts of late, Travaglino, that
you have let so many days pass without
coming here or without letting us have
any news of you ? ' Travaglino replied,
* Master, the many jobs I have had in
hand have kept me fully occupied.'
Then said Emilliano, c And how goes
on my bull with the gilded horns?'

When he heard these words, poor
Travaglino was overcome with the direst
confusion, and his face flushed with shame
as red as a burning furnace, and he was
fain to find some excuse for his fault and
to hide the truth. But in the end the
fear of saying aught which might sully
his honour stood him in good stead, and
made him take heart of grace and tell
his master the whole story from begin-

THE FIFTH FABLE. 391

ning to end: how Isotta had beguiled
him, and how his dealings with her had
ensued in the death of the bull. Emil-
liano was amazed beyond measure as he
listened to this story, which, however
great his fault might have been, at least
proved Travaglino to be a truthful fellow
and one of good character. So in the
end Emilliano won the wager with regard
to the farm, and Lucaferro gained nothing
but a pair of horns for his own head,
while his good-for-nothing wife Isotta,
in trying to dupe another, was finely
duped herself, and got nothing but shame
for her trouble.

When this instructive fable was fin-
ished, every one of the worthy company
of listeners was loud in blame of the
dissolute Isotta, and equally loud in com-
mendation of Travaglino, holding up to
ridicule the silly loose-minded woman,
who had in such vile manner given her-
self away to a herdsman, of which ill-doing
the real cause was her innate and pesti-
lential avarice. And seeing that Eritrea

392 NIGHT THE THIRD.

had not as yet propounded her enigma,
the Signora, glancing at her, made a sign
that she must not interrupt the proced-
ure they had followed so far. Whereupon
Eritrea, without any farther delay, gave
her enigma:

I saw one day in fine spring weather,
A head and a breech full close together.
Another breech I likewise found
Squatting at ease upon the ground.
And one, as strong as any mule,
Stood quiet, subject to the rule
Of two, who in the head shone bright,
And looked with pleasure on the sight.
Meantime the head pressed closer still,
And ten there were who worked with will,
With dexterous grasp, now up, now down.
No prettier sight in all the town.

Though the ladies made merry enough
over the fable, they held the enigma to
be no less of a jest. And, because there
was not one of them who seemed likely
to be able to solve it, Eritrea spake as
follows : " My enigma, ladies and gentle-
men, is intended to describe one who

THE FIFTH FABLE. 393

sits down under a cow and sets to work
to milk her. And for the same reason
he who milks the cow must keep his head
close to the cow's breech, and the milker,
for his good convenience, sits with his
breech on the ground. She is very pa-
tient, and is kept in restraint by one,
namely, he who milks her, and is watched
by two eyes, and is stroked by two hands
and the ten fingers, which draw from her
the milk." This very clever enigma
pleased them all mightily, as well as the
interpretation thereof; but, seeing that
every star had now disappeared from the
heaven, save only a certain one which
still shone in the whitening dawn, the
Signora gave order that every one of
the company should depart whitherso-
ever he would, and take rest until the
coming evening, commanding at the same
time that each one should duly appear
again at the appointed place under pain
of her displeasure.

BHjt ©nti of tfy Cfjirfc !Ni

Contents*

VOLUME ONE.

PACK

DEDICATION ............. vii

A FOREWORD ............. ix

PROEM ............... i

tfje JFtrst ........... .15

THE FIRST FABLE. Salardo, son of Rainaldo
Scaglia, quits Genoa and goes to Montferrat,
where he disobeys certain injunctions laid
upon him by his father's testament, and is
condemned to death therefor ; but, being de-
livered, he returns to his own country ... 17

THE SECOND FABLE. Cassandrino, a noted
robber, and a friend of the praetor of Perugia,
steals the praetor's bed and his horse Liardo,
395

396 CONTENTS.

PAGE

but afterwards becomes a man of probity and
good repute ............ 41

THE THIRD FABLE. Pre Scarpafico, having
been once duped by three robbers, dupes them
thrice in return, and lives happily the rest of
his days ............. 61

THE FOURTH FABLE. Tebaldo, Prince of Sa-
lerno, wishes to have his only daughter Dora-
lice to wife, but she, through her father's
persecution, flees to England, where she mar-
ries Genese the king, and has by him two
children. These, having been slain by Te-
baldo, are avenged by their father King
Genese .............. 79

THE FIFTH FABLE. Dimitrio the chapman,
having disguised himself as a certain Gramot-
tiveggio, surprises his wife Polissena with a
priest, and sends her back to her brothers,
who put her to death, and Dimitrio afterwards
marries his serving-woman ....... 103

tfje &mmlr ........... 129

THE FIRST FABLE. Galeotto, King of Anglia,
has a son who is born in the shape of a pig.

CONTENTS. 397

MOB

This son marries three wives, and in the end,
having thrown off his semblance, becomes a
handsome youth 133

THE SECOND FABLE. Filenio Sisterno, a stu-
dent of Bologna, having been tricked by cer-
tain ladies, takes his revenge upon them at a
feast to which he has bidden them .... 153

THE THIRD FABLE. Carlo da Rimini vainly
pursues Theodosia with his love, she having
resolved to live a virgin. In striving to em-
brace her he meets with divers misadventures,
and is well beaten by his own servants to
boot 181

THE FOURTH FABLE. The devil, having heard
divers husbands railing over the humours of
their wives, makes trial of matrimony by es-
pousing Silvia Balastro, and, not being abla
to endure his wife for long, enters into the
body of the Duke of Malphi 19?

THE FIFTH FABLE. Messer Simplicio di Rossi
is enamoured of Giliola, the wife of Ghirotto
Scanferla, a peasant, and having been caught
in her company is ill-handled by her husband
therefor 218

t

398 i CONTENTS.

PACK

Nigfjt tije ftfjirto 237

THE FIRST FABLE. A simple fellow, named
Peter, gets back his wits by the help of a
tunny fish which he spared after having taken
it in his net, and likewise wins for his wife a
king's daughter 242

THE SECOND FABLE. Dalfreno, King of Tunis,
had two sons, one called Listico and the other
Livoretto. The latter afterwards was known
as Porcarollo, and in the end won for his wife
Bellisandra, the daughter of Attarante, King
of Damascus 262

THE THIRD FABLE. Biancabella, the daughter
of Lamberico, Marquis of Monferrato, is sent
away by the stepmother of Ferrandino, King
of Naples, in order that she may be put to
death ; but the assassins only cut off her
hands and put out her eyes. Afterwards, her
hurts having been healed by a snake, she
returns happily to Ferrandino 302

THE FOURTH FABLE. Fortunio, on account
of an injury done to him by his supposed
father and mother, leaves them, and after
much wandering, comes to a wood, where he
finds three animals, who do him good service.

CONTENTS. 399

PACK

Afterwards he goes to Polonia, where he gets
to wife Doralice, the king's daughter, as a
reward for his prowess 339

THE FIFTH FABLE. Isotta, the wife of Luca-
ferro Albani of Bergamo, devises how she
may trick Travaglino the cowherd of her
brother Emilliano and thereby show him to
be a liar, but she loses her husband's farm
and returns home worsted in her attempt, and
bringing with her a bull's head with gilded
horns 373

0! Illustrations,

VOLUME ONE.

ARTIST PACK

THE PRINCESS LUCRETIA AND HER Frontispiece

JOYOUS COMPANY ASSEMBLED
FOR THE ENTERTAINMENTS . Jules Gamier

SAME SUBJECT C. R. Hughes 3

PRE SCARPAFICO DUPES THE ROB-
BERS Jules Garnier ^2

PRINCESS DORALICE HIDING IN

THE KING'S CHEST . . . . C. R. Hughes 90

TRANSFORMATION OF THE PIG

PRINCE C. R. Hughes 146

FlLENIO SlSTERNO's REVENGE . Jules Gamier 174
401

4°2 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

ARTIST PACK

BlANCABELLA AND THE ENCHANT-
ED SERPENT C. R. Hughes 308

BlANCABELLA AFTER HER SlGHT

AND HANDS WERE RESTORED, Jules Gamier 328

FORTUNIO DISGUISED AS AN EAGLE

ESCAPES FROM THE SlREN . C. R. Hughes 368

ISOTTA AND TRAVAGLINO . . . C. R. Hughes 382

entetfj t^e jFttat

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